


Come Fly With Me

by Vibrant_Orchid



Series: Three Birds of a Feather [1]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: AU Post-The Shadow War!, Emotional Manipulation, Multi, Pansexual Character, Polyamorous Character, Pre-Season 2 (Ducktales), Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-07-13 11:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 48,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16017254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vibrant_Orchid/pseuds/Vibrant_Orchid
Summary: Life throws Fenton Crackshell-Cabera for a tailspin when he falls for the ever-lovable dork, Launchpad McQuack.Open to Constructive Criticism!Find me on Twitter to ask questions and for story update notifications: @vibrant_orchid





	1. Angel Eyes

The sunlight glittered across the ebbing waves near the McDuck Money Bin. Fenton had been running late the last few meetings to discuss new developments regarding Gizmoduck as well as to collect his paycheck. It had never occurred to him how it happened when he allotted himself so much time to account for traffic and burnt breakfast. This caused his curiosity to bubble up through his always dizzying thoughts. He had yet to fully realize it but the cause of his concerns was not escaped today. At the drop-off, Launchpad Mcquack stood at the hood of the limo, attempting to knock out the dents made in his most recent crash. Immediately, the connection snapped into place. Fenton's eyes instantly darted towards Launchpad's bulging leather sleeves. His gaze edged upwards and his line of sight met with Launchpad's. In that terror-riddled moment, his eyes shot toward the ground and he walked toward the front door. Heat flushed his checks and his feathers ruffled slightly. "Launchpad, really? Of anyone to have a crush on it was Launchpad?" Fenton thought, eager to press the buttons on the elevator. There was a moment where he collected himself as the doors slid shut. He must have internally developed _something_ while the two were set on escaping with their lives from the corrupt B.U.D.D.Y system. Had he really buried the attraction beneath the fear of the moment? Halfway up the elevator ride, Fenton's internal logic kicked in, telling him that he didn't know if Launchpad was attracted to men or anyone really. From this, it evolved into a complex train of thought and upon realizing this, Fenton filed it away for later. He had a meeting to attend to that was going to require his full attention.    

Fenton crept through the overbearing doors of the Meeting Room and squeaked. At the opposite end of the dark room sitting at the head of the table was Bently Buzzard, head of The Board of Directors. He slinked quietly to his chair ashamed as it rushed back to him that today was to be the day he and Scrooge were to meet with the Board of Directors. Scrooge harshly glanced at him and they both looked toward the trio of buzzards. "Scrooge, I've noticed that you have made yet another investment without consulting us. And on some superhero robot publicity stunt? I expected more from you after your confrontation with Magica De Spell. Repairing the Money Bin hasn't exactly been cheap and even with your fortune things have been tight around here." 

Scrooge sat still, his eyebrows furrowed. "Well isn't that the point gentlemen, Duckburg needs somebody to protect it when trouble turns up. Gizmoduck turned out to be quite the asset in that battle. 

Bently stared coldly at Scrooge. "While it cannot be denied that Gizmoduck played a part in the success of that battle, I do question your objectivity in hiring Mr. Crackshell-Cabera full time. Paid. On a monthly basis." He said this while looking intently at Fenton. 

"He has been late for nearly every meeting according to your records." Bradford Buzzard chimed in. The third director nodded silently.

Scrooge turned towards Fenton and whispered, "Care to explain yourself, lad? I know I don't mind you being late but they certainly do." 

Fenton swallowed and his view slid between the buzzards. "I, uh, am aware of the concerns of the board but, I..." Fenton said, blushing. "Blathering blatherskites," he thought to himself, "I'm really making a fool of myself." 

Bently stared coldly at Fenton. "Perhaps we'll speak about this matter again later, Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera. I believe you can leave. We will now continue to discuss other financial matters with Mr. McDuck." 

Fenton clung his clipboard closely to his chest, in which he had been doodling swirls _and_ some hearts, as he shifted his feet towards the door. "Sorry gentlemen," he said sheepishly " I'm just feeling a bit off today. I'll be back to being a.. er.. productive member of Mr. McDuck's Money Bin very soon"  Bently didn't seem to register what he said as the heavy oaken doors shut after a humble duck slid through them.  Scrooge's mouth twitched slightly as he prepared to defend the young thinker but nothing more happened. He knew perfectly well the words would mean nothing against the harsh kettle of buzzards. 

Outside, Fenton sat on an uncomfortable plastic chair, swinging his legs slightly. As much as Fenton could appreciate the risk Scrooge was taking in hiring him; he equally wished some money went into the furniture around the Money Bin. Although, now that he thought about it, it could've been the Board of Directors who were responsible. Every few seconds he would take a peek at the doors, dreading the moment either Scrooge or the directors would step out. An hour full of muffled shouting passed and then the trio of buzzards walked out, not paying the slightest attention to Fenton. Scrooge followed and he walked quickly towards Fenton. A smile surprisingly graced his face. 

"I know what's going on my boy," Scrooge said smugly, almost laughing 

"You do?' Fenton squeaked. 

"All those years of exploration haven't foiled my vision yet. I know hearts when I see them." Scrooge teased. Fenton opened his mouth to speak but Scrooge hushed him. "Young love is quite the distracting emotion. I won't ask about who the lucky lassie is, so don't worry about that." Fenton felt no less tense than he had before he heard this. 

"However, work must take a major spot on the forefront of your mind. I appreciate your brilliance Fenton, but if you can't prove that to those directors there's not much I can do if they decide to fire you. Romance is nice, but look what I've done without it," he exclaimed giddily pointing at the glass dome above them, suspending a glass chandelier. "If you want to be successful, you've got to work with both your heart and your mind" Scrooge sat down on a chair, clearly proud of himself. He hummed a bit before a frown fell on his face. "These chairs are a bit hard on the tailfeathers, wouldn't you say?"  

****** 

Fenton balanced on the heels of his feet awkwardly. He peeked at his reflection in the metal doors of the elevator, thinking about everything that had just happened. Scrooge seemed to be supportive, but he missed the target by an entire side of the binary. He was partially disappointed in himself for not correcting him. He didn't have any reason to fear any prejudice from Scrooge. His archeological adventures led him to experience second-hand the ancient and complex ideas of non-heteronormative societies and vast societal gender spectrums. The papers Fenton had read that were published by him showed a real appreciation and interest in these ideas. Beyond the unbelievable joy of being paid to act as Duckburg's very own superhero, there was a secondary rush of glee.

Fenton had his first experience with representation through Scrooge's papers published in archaeological journals during a particularly nerdy period of his childhood. He had begged his mother for a subscription and she, while hesitant as he was known to switch interests on a whim, got him a 6-month subscription. To both her surprise and delight, the young Fenton was interested for far longer than anticipated and no cancelations were necessary for quite some time. What interested Fenton was not just the surprising concept that the lives of those in the past were as complex and intricate as those living in today' society, but that some embodied just how he felt. The most prominent of these papers were on the Greecian society on Ithaquack.  Scrooge noted the inhabitants to be quite homonormative. They had developed the earliest recorded form of artificial insemination as well as contracts between same-sex couples to bear each other's children. It was in this November 1998 issue that Fenton had seen himself for the first time in the recounting of the myth of Storkules and his lover, Argus Quail. 

 Fenton stepped out of the elevator, still feeling at a little unease. His view revealed that the driveway was now empty. Some of his tension ebbed and he gained a brief moment of confidence. He nearly marched overtly proud out of the building. His mental celebration was premature as at that moment Scrooge's limo pulled up followed by the clang of the front door. Scrooge walked out of them and strolled over to the car.  

****** 

"You're finally on time, Launchpad! Twelve-o-clock on the dot." Scrooge said pleased, stepping into the vehicle. 

"Why thanks, Mr. Dee. I guess today I felt motivated to get here on time for once. Without crashing." Launchpad said upbeat, although he seemed a bit upset about the last part. "How did today's meeting go today with Fenton?" he added, not expecting a thought out response. 

"It went, in an interesting direction. That Crackshell-Cabrera is sure a handful to keep within the close confines of business." Scrooge said, building to continue only to be interrupted by Launchpad. 

"I'm just glad he's not a cyborg. We would've had quite the trouble to deal with, right Mr. Dee?" Launchpad chirped in. "But we could've dealt with it." 

Scrooge paused and then continued, "Your friend seemed to have his mind occupied with thoughts opposite that of a cyborg today" 

"Uh, what could that be?" Launchpad asked. 

"Romance," Scrooge said, nearly giggling as deeply he reminisced about his own young love and follies. 

At this word, Launchpad swerved heavily. A loud truck horn sounded and then faded. Scrooge didn't take notice. Such occurrences were common on any day but today on a ride with Launchpad at the wheel. "With who?" Launchpad blurted, not even taking the slightest care to cover up his intentions. 

Scrooge snapped into consciousness, pulled from his memories. "How am I supposed to know? I'm not a snoop nor a gossip." he sputtered. 

Launchpad picked up on the irony that Scrooge had indeed just been gossiping but the thought never came to fruition. The rest of the ride continued in relative silence, with a few harsh turns and the brakes were slammed a few times. Inside his thoughts, Launchpad reprimanded himself for his driving. He couldn't believe he was getting riled up by this. He focused more intently on his driving and the hectic motions decreased. Launchpad knew himself well enough to understand he could get a little distracted. Too often his thoughts would take a step back for more powerful emotionally driven ones. As Launchpad pulled up to McDuck Manor, he allowed his thoughts to come rushing back and he was pushed into a panic. He said goodbye to Scrooge and finished pulling into the garage. He sat down and put on an episode of Darkwing Duck. It didn't matter which one, he needed to have something running in the background. 

"Do I like Fenton?" he yelled. Instantly, he gasped. The door leading to the house was open. In the doorway stood Ms. Beakly. He scrambled to think of an explanation but not before realizing she was running the vacuum as well as sporting a pair of headphones. Her iPod was hooked to her belt buckle. Launchpad exhaled in relief which just happened to be what alerted Ms. Beakly's attention. 

"You're back a little early. Usually, you go run a few errands before coming home on Tuesdays. I know you're running low on barbecue chips and your apron is still in the laundry so you can't be making dinner. Something's up Launchpad, I can tell."  Ms. Beakly stated matter-of-factly 

"Nope, nothing's up. I'm just sitting here doing my own Launchpad things in my own Launchpad style" he said as he hastily crossed his legs and pulled some finger guns. 

Ms. Beakly stared blankly. "Alright then. We'll chat later," she said with suspicion. The door closed behind her. 

Launchpad sighed with relief. He adjusted his hat, removing it briefly to comb his hair a bit. He squinted his eyes in concentration after putting the hat back on. He decided he wouldn't think about it until later. He reclined on the couch, letting his body fully sink into the cushions. Just as a little slothful bliss came over him before he slipped into a nap, Scrooge rapped loudly on the door with his cane, announcing his arrival. 

"Launchpad, I just remembered. Tomorrow I need you to fly out to Greece with the nephews and Webby tomorrow. I'll also need you to check the seatbelts on the other seats. I decided to test Fenton's performance as Gizmoduck during our adventure. It'll just be a temple with a few traps. Nothing he shouldn't be able to handle, small obstacles here and there. I can't see Aphrodite putting anything too intense in her temple." Scrooge chuckled.  

"Alright, Mr. McDee. I'll be right on it." Launchpad announced with a false confidence; a confidence which only faded further when he remembered just what Aphrodite was the goddess of...love.


	2. The Pyramid of Aphrodite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenton is assigned a test run from Scrooge on an adventure with his nephews, and Launchpad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit larger than the first, probably twice as long. If it's too long for you then I'll work on making shorter chapters. (Sorry this took so long to release.)

Launchpad crawled beneath the busted seats, making sure the seat belts were properly attached to the walls of the plane. 

"Well, there you are Launchpad. I had a feeling you would be in here" Ms. Beakly said as if appearing from nowhere. The emerging sunlight behind her concealed her body in shadow. Launchpad snapped up, hitting his head on the bottom of a seat. ~~~~ ~~~~Ms. Beakly stepped closer. She could see the confusion on his face. "Oh, don't look so bewildered. Do you really think I wouldn't piece together what's going on here? Fenton was just invited by Scrooge to come along his little excursion and when have you ever double checked the safety of the _Sunchaser_?  

" I didn't double check the _Sunchaser_ , this is my, eh, first time coming out here this morning." Launchpad managed to pull together. 

Ms. Beakly stared back at him, baiting him to admit what she already knew. " We've worked with each other for quite some time, Launchpad. I can pull together the signs." 

"Ah, Ms. B, you can't possibly tell. I'm so sneaky about these things that I bet you wouldn't be able to figure out ." Launchpad said smugly, in an attempt to gain some footing in the banter. 

Ms. Beakly shook her head and clicked her tongue. "You silly, man" she joked. "It's always the same, each and every time. It starts with more careful, perhaps even graceful, for your standards, driving, increased precision in safety standards, and then you learn a new dish to cook for them. I'm looking forward to that last one in particular." 

"You got me there, Ms. B." he chuckled. "I'm just not so sure about this one. I'm not getting those vibes from him. The last time I tried when I wasn't sure it was-" 

Ms. Beakly cut him off. "I'm sorry, Launchpad. I didn't mean for you to remember that. I didn't know it was like that this time. I have to be more careful with my excitement now that Webby's been sending me signals." She sat down and hung her head. Her playful confidence melted away and Launchpad, sensing this, took a seat and inched closer. 

"No, it's okay. It can be a little alarming at first... that's not the problem, isn't it?" Launchpad inquired. 

"My husband was bisexual and I felt terrible about it. He was so tense for months on end because he believed I wouldn't take it well. Honestly, it didn't matter to me in the slightest as I knew deep down that he loved me and me alone.  He had languished for all that time so when he finally decided to tell me I went a little far in acceptance. I was a smothering ally and I still am very much so to this day. And now that Webby has been dropping hints about girls, I desperately want to disprove any concerns she may have. She has to have them right? Otherwise, she would have told me already." Ms. Beakly said starting in a firm informative tone before ebbing into a panic. 

Launchpad took a deep breath. "There could be a lot of reasons as to why she doesn't want to tell you just yet. Even I waited to tell my parents and I have two dads. Although, I wasn't sure how they would react to my sexuality though. I kind of got the impression they would want me to "choose a side" but how am I supposed to choose a side when there were so many of them?" Launchpad snickered at this but was quick to return to Ms. Beakly's aid. He added in a far more serious tone, " She'll tell you when she feels she's ready. If you want to, I'll allow you to joke about my crush on Fenton, but only once I figure out if it's possible to pursue further. I think we could all benefit from some light-heartedness right now." 

"Oh Launchpad, thank you. Although I don't think I'll be taking you up on that offer. I think I'll be capable of..." Ms. Beakly proudly exclaimed, standing up, before shrinking back down into a hug with Launchpad. She got up and walked to the plane's exit.  She peered out of the doorframe and then looked back at Launchpad. "Good luck," she said quickly, reclaiming her standard composure before stepping out. Her exit was followed by the entrance of Scrooge McDuck, his three grandnephews, Webby, and Fenton. 

The four children scrambled over to their seats, eagerly chatting away to each other, although Huey was also invested in reading the newly issued Junior Woodchuck Guidebook. Fenton struggled behind them, dragging a suitcase which was evidently the Gizmoduck suit folded up as it kept trying to pop open. Launchpad internally gasped and shuddered. He approached Fenton and offered to help him with his suitcase. "How do I make this as least homo-romantic as possible?' Launchpad thought to himself resulting in him telling Fenton that " I'll help you out buddy" in a robotic tone.  Fenton looked at him perplexed as Launchpad lifted the suitcase and placed it into an overhanging net. Launchpad methodically stepped toward the driver's seat next to Scrooge.  

"I know I already gave you the coordinates for the temple Launchpad, but I have to make a quick stop at Ithaquack. Selene sent me some important information in a dream last night and I need to pick it up." Scrooge mentioned apologetically. 

"Ithaquack! Blathering blatherskites, may I follow along, Mr. McDuck? It's been a lifelong dream of mine to see Ithaquack and all its glory." Fenton blurted, only to be backed by a chorus of requests from the children that they too, may tag along on Scrooge's errand. 

Scrooge stared flustered at Fenton. "Alright, alright, quiet yourselves, lads and lasses. You all can come along but if, and only if, you make this a functional stop. I'm talking bathroom breaks, refreshments, and a quick snack. Is that clear?" They all nodded. "Unfortunately Launchpad, I'm going to have to ask you to stay behind in the _Sunchaser_. I don't want to have to wait for it to warm up again. It may be made of sustainable aqua crystals but it takes time to boil them and this is time sensitive." 

"It's all clear here Mr. McDee," announced Launchpad with pride. He looked over at Fenton, hoping he noticed his tenacity to listen to Scrooge. His heart still felt a rush from the minor high he achieved when he heard how excited Fenton got at the mention of Ithaquack. 

The rest of the flight onwards to Inthaquack was relatively normal. Sibling bickering ensured and at least one typically risky visit to the on-plane bathroom was made. However, this time the plane was not in a constant state of tilting at frequent intervals. Instead, it stayed steady and on-course indefinitely. Scrooge seemed to have picked up on this departure from the norm and looked up towards Launchpad. He noticed an intensity he rarely saw in Launchpad's eyes. His concentration seemed to increase at any moment the plane risked not flying smoothly in the slightest.  Scrooge decided to continue to think about this as he didn't want to think about what his mind wanted to focus on right now.  He couldn't believe that Selene had just found some old possessions of Della's, although, in the dream, she wasn't too clear in what that entailed. He certainly did remember an apology for the blurry connection that lasted the majority of the memorable residue of the dream. She didn't appear to be too upset or concerned about it, so Scrooge allowed himself to not put so much hope in what it all meant. It wouldn't be something that could bring her back, find her in the void of space, but what he was working on would. His urgency to make the stop as utilitarian as possible was to compensate for the fact it was completely for sentimental reasons Scrooge was stopping there himself. Her fingers worked the head of his cane, polishing the brass as he prepared himself for a wave of emotions he would have to expose himself to soon.  

The plane descended gracefully upon the clear waters of Ithaquack. Fenton bubbled with excitement, a smile spread quickly across his face. As the last one to leave the plane, Scrooge looked back at Launchpad with skepticism. Reclining in his chair, Launchpad's eyes were glued to the Sunchaser's manual. This copy, in particular, was marked with post-its and highlighted passages. Scrooge noted it to be the copy that usually was placed beneath an uneven table back in Launchpad's garage. "Everything, alright Launchpad?" he asked. 

Launchpad barely looked up from the warped pages, "Yep, everything's good, Mr. McDee."  

Scrooge nodded and tipped his hat. "It shouldn't be too long. We'll be back in around an hour." There wasn't a conscious response from Launchpad. Scrooge pattered out of the Sunchaser and into the Mediterranean sun.  

Huey, Dewey, and Webby finished rubbing in their sunscreen while Louie applied a strip down his beak and donned a pair of shades. Fenton was busy snapping pictures left and right. Lying tilted in the long waxy grass was a statue depicting Storkules and Argus Quail. Fenton raised the lens of his phone to line up perfectly for an incredible shot. He paused and slowly lowered it, wanting to take in this exact moment not only physically, but emotionally. All the questions, fears, and insecurities of his past stood small and insignificant against this monument of love. He took one last longing glance at the statue and he snapped the picture. 

"Come on, Fenton. Quit taking pictures of boring statutes and experience some real Mediterranean culture. There's a real sweet shawarma stand beyond this hill at the edge of town." Louie yelled over the howling winds. The group clambered down the rocky hillside towards a quaint seaside town. The juicy and pungent smell of shawarma wafted in the air. The distinct smell of garlic sauce followed. 

"You all continue on ahead. I'll meet back with everyone by the time you finish making your orders," he said, which he followed more quietly ", and when you'll need me to pay the bill" They waved to Scrooge as he walked up to another winding path up the surrounding mountains. The winds grew sharper as he approached the upper reaches of the mountain.

******

The Temple of Heros stood before Scrooge. He took a deep breath before stepping in between the Doric columns. Scrooge exuded confidence at first as he glided through the various chambers of the temple, all without looping back around or reaching a dead end. In a flash, he became humbled. The doors to Selene's chamber were directly ahead. He poked the door with his cane, the sound echoed through the temple. "Come on in Scrooge," Selene announced from the opposite side. Selene was sitting on the floor of the chamber, a mysterious breeze blew at strands of her hair. A stone box no larger than a shoebox sat before her. "I found this after the last time we talked, you know, about Della," Selene said solemnly. "All of a sudden I felt motivated to fish through some old things of mine, and here we are. I'm not sure what it is, it's been so long, but I marked it "Della" so it has to be something." She picked it up and held it out to Scrooge. He reached out to grab it but her grip still held tightly to it. "Scrooge, I want you to know I believe you're taking the right action. The Scrooge I know would never give up and neither would've Della." Scrooge nodded silently in solidarity. He slipped the box underneath his arm. 

"Selene, you wouldn't happen to know anything about Aphrodite, would you? It's about the plan." Scrooge quietly asked. 

The mood in the room shifted intensely. Selene let out an outrageous snort. "Aphrodite, do I know anything about Aphrodite? Scrooge, did you forget who you are talking to?" 

"I know, I know, Selene. I'm just wondering if her temple's got any tricked out rooms or dangerous artifacts. I brought along a rookie adventurer for training and it seemed like a good spot to begin." Scrooge said. 

"That wasn't particularly wise of you, Scrooge. That woman is made of a hunk of flesh from a diced up mega-god. I went to one of her parties and I swear, I will never again look at a game of bobbing for apples the same way. Those golden apples may not have started red, but they ended that way. I can't even begin to imagine what kind of traps she'll have waiting for you. However, she's my kind of gal and I think I have her number around here somewhere. I'll try getting her to call off security before you arrive but you still have to be careful, alright?"  Scrooge nodded in understanding.

****** 

Scrooge stepped over to Fenton at the head of the shawarma stand. His arms were stuffed with the warm bowls, all teetering precariously. Fenton let out a sigh of relief as he stopped the search for his wallet among the towers. "How hungry could you all possibly be?" Scrooge exclaimed, staring at the pile. 

"Well, there's one each for Huey, Dewey, Louie, Webby, and myself. Webby told me your favorite combinations so I got you one. Then I thought that maybe Launchpad might like something to eat and Huey helped me out with that." Fenton explained, getting slightly flustered at his own mention of Launchpad. 

Scrooge pulled a few bills from his money clip and handed them to the woman at the counter. Fenton lowered his arms as the crowd of children snatched their desired bowls and utensils. Fenton carried the remaining three bowls to the plane where Scrooge was handed his with thanks. Fenton took a seat next to Launchpad. Launchpad slowly lowered the plane manual from the front of his face. "Hey there Fenton," Launchpad mumbled, slipping the manual into the glovebox, "How was it?" 

Fenton's mind skipped a beat and his brain burst into shameless overdrive. " I wasn't even there for that long and it felt incredible. The air felt so nice on my feathers, the culture's beautiful. It was breathtaking. I've never felt so complete before" Fenton paused. "I bet you experience this all the time while you travel." Fenton looked up and saw Launchpad enthralled by his experience. A closer examination found a dilation of his pupils. Fenton froze. Any cohesive thought dissipated. 

Launchpad snapped out of his misty focus and noticed a panicking Fenton. Quickly thinking, he asked, "So, what did you order?" The question seemed to ease Fenton, his shoulders relaxed in his seat and his eyes stopped their frantic darting. Launchpad himself was in a bit of a panic. He was having a little difficulty in finding what had set Fenton off. 

"I thought it would be wiser to pick the bowl instead of the bread, a far more stable option. They sort of gave me all the sauces to try. Don't get me wrong, I'm not opposed to that, but it was a little unexpected" Fenton clarified. 

Scrooge looked over to Launchpad, tapping at his watch. Launchpad prepared the plane for take-off. The wings slid silently higher into the air. After a few minutes of clear flying Launchpad turned towards Fenton. Using his free hand, he adjusted his hat. "Would you mind getting me just a few bites from my bowl. I need to focus and it's worked up quite an appetite." Launchpad mentioned meekly. 

"Oh, of course," Fenton said, his fingers struggling to unclasp the plastic top of the take-out bowl. He slowed down to avoid spilling before it finally popped off. He scooped a spoonful of steamy rice and red onion and mixed it with a dollop of garlic sauce to the side. Fenton raised the spoon to Launchpad's beak as he leaned over to receive it. 

"Man, that sure hits the spot, thanks, buddy." Launchpad applauded. Fenton continued to feed Launchpad until a burst of turbulence sent the utensil straight into Launchpad's cheek. A greasy smear skidded across his face. Fenton gasped and reached for a napkin. Launchpad lightly took it from him and wiped it off. The pair sat in awkward silence as the plane soared onwards. 

Across the plane, Scrooge sat near his great-nephews occasionally directing his attention to their faux arguments about the exact inspiration for napkin designs. Within his playful eavesdrop, Scrooge took note of an odd absence of sound. Webby had uncharacteristically removed herself from the discussion. Right next to the boisterous trio sat Webby, fidgeting with the papers in a folder from her "McDuck Files" she brought from home. She didn't seem particular attentive to the contents but it seemed to provide some sort of comfort. Scrooge scooted forward slightly to get a better view of the title. "Tawnya de Duckpicka", an artist who had married into the McDuck clan. He set himself a mental reminder to check up with Webby later, to make sure she was all right. The plane was beginning its descent and ever since Donald's tumble last month, the adults who could move mid-flight had a fear instilled in them not to. 

As they began to unload, Fenton attempted to escape his awkward situation before realizing his suitcase was still out of reach. Silently Launchpad reached up and pulled it down for him and walked on to join the others. "What if he's mad at me?" Fenton asked himself. "Why would he be mad at a complete accident, and you responded to it fantastically?" his inner monologue responded. "But he could totally be mad, though." it reminded him. He walked out of the _Starchaser_ and stopped. Scrooge was patiently waiting outside the temple. He appeared to be staring at a puddle. Suddenly, Selene's face appeared instead of his reflection, looking embarrassed. 

"Scrooge, I'm sorry. I kind of forgot that things didn't really end up well with Aphrodite. So, when I called her, she got just a little mad that I assumed it was okay to ask for favors. She may have upped the ante of the temple's security. Sorry, again. Bye Scrooge." Selene shouted briefly before ending the call. Her reflection faded, leaving Scrooge's shocked face to gape back at him. 

"Fenton, how about you put on Gizmoduck now, rather than later," Scrooge suggested.

"Didn't we plan to use it when we got to the inner chambers, Mr. McDuck?" Fenton asked. 

Scrooge tapped his cane on the ground. "I'm going to be honest with the lot of you. I didn't exactly scout this location out we'll enough and my informant has some... history with Aphrodite. This adventure is going to be too dangerous for you kids. I want you to head back to the _Sunchaser_ with Launchpad and wait. I'll step in with Fenton in the Gizmoduck suit, snap a few photos, film his defense capabilities, and pop on out. It shouldn't take more than twenty minutes." 

Huey began to walk back to the Sunchaser before Dewey grabbed him by his shoulder and turned him back around. The nephews and Webby stood defiantly before Scrooge. "Come on Scrooge!  Weren't we there when Magica attacked us and we won? We're stronger when we're together!" Dewey protested proudly. 

Scrooge rolled his eyes. "There's a big difference in adventures when you've got the flow of adrenaline fueling your survival and acting like a moth to a bug zapper. We can't just jump into these things haphazardly." Continued glares from the children pierced Scrooge. 

"Alright, alright. You can come along but you have to stay in between Launchpad and Fenton, and behind me. Launchpad and Fenton, get into a circle formation." Scrooge shouted. 

Fenton, now in the Gizmoduck suit joined hands with Launchpad, who had his back turned him. The children reluctantly ducked underneath their arms and gathered in the center. Scrooge held his cane out in front of him. Revolving it in front of him like a wagging dog's tail. They clumsily marched into the temple. 

The pleasant smell of roses and exotic spices were the only stimuli to pierce the increasing darkness. A small click echoed in the dark and a flame the size of a pinky nail burned at the tip of Scrooge's cane. The bursting of an electronic bubble followed, the lens of Gizmoduck emitted a bright blue beam onto the path ahead. High pitched snickers clicked in the void. The crowd frantically turned all around, attempting to locate the source of the terrifying sounds. The child-like laughter continued and drove the group into a panic. Gizmoduck's beam finally caught something in a corner. A statue hanged from an unlit torch, a winged baby holding a bow. It's lifeless orbs rolled in the place of eyes. It laughed again. The string of the bow pulled back on its own. Another chuckle came from the opposite corner. Another statue sat in the corner. 

"They're Eros, Aphrodite's son. Cupid-ouch" Huey shouted before being silenced by his own yelp. A small blowdart struck his arm. The strings on the bow were now loosened. "Kimberly Clark" he shouted, clasping his hand over his mouth. 

Louie turned toward him and snorted. "Kimberly Clark, the girl from the Co-Ed Scout meetings?" the connections lit up inside Louie's head. "Oh my gosh, they're making us say our crushes!" Louie yelled before he dived behind his brothers and Gizmoduck. The twangs of bowstrings snapping back into formation and the rush or darts filled the air.

The darts had no effect on the duck-shield of Gizmoduck, on the other hand, Launchpad got hit with a lot of darts. He twisted his body into various positions to block the path of the darts headed straight for the children with cries of "George Clooney", "Benedict Camelback", "Tessa Swansong", and "Antoni Porowski". The parade of hot celebrities continued until Scrooge's extended cane hit an indented segment of the stone wall. A burst of light and mist came forth from the newly opened doorway. They all scurried inside. The onslaught of romantically exposing darts ceased upon their entrance.

The air inside this chamber was hotter, the overwhelming heat of a sauna would be a logical comparison. Waterfalls foamed into pools beneath the platform they now stood on. Petals swirled around the bubbling waters. Rising mist gave off an odor of opened ovens filled with baked goods. The group felt the sudden urge to plop themselves down on the soft grass. 

Scrooge growled. "What are the lot of you doing? This is obviously a trap." Scrooge struggled as his legs wobbled, his cane one of the few things that held him up. They dragged their feet forward, falling out of formation in the process. The mist thickened as they approached the exit. Launchpad fell behind. 

"Guys, where are you? Scrooge! Dewey? Louie? Huey? Webby?" He gulped. "Fenton?" 

"Yes, Launchpad?" Fenton said, he stood there without the Gizmoduck suit. 

"There you are, buddy" Launchpad exclaimed as he rushed towards him. Fenton snatched his hand. "That's a little tight," Launchpad said nervously, being led deeper into the mist. "I hope you're aware I'm not mad about that spoon thing. I can't even see how it's a big deal if that's why you're a little tense" Fenton continued to walk on, he ignored everything Launchpad said, his hold remained tense and tightly wound. Launchpad sensed something strange attempted to slip his hand out of Fenton's grasp, it didn't budge. "Okay, now I know that's not Fenton." Launchpad pulled harder and the figure dissolved in the mist. It drifted away from in front of him. He now stood at the edge of this chamber's platform. The water boiled and bubbled. Slowly, Launchpad stepped back and went to look for the exit.

******  

The digital visor on Gizmoduck glitched and fizzled to a dead black. The suit expelled Fenton and folded up into a box. He rubbed his head and stood up." I've got to find the others." Fenton told himself aloud. He stumbled about in the fog, clusters of grass would trip him, hidden beneath the mist. Ahead of him, he heard a sing-song hum. He followed it. In the waters below, he saw a shirtless Launchpad, swimming in the water. Instinctively he looked away. 

"Come on in, the waters fine," Launchpad shouted as he splashed about. Fenton didn't hesitate and ran away.

"Please, did Aphrodite really think I would fall for that?" Fenton laughed proudly. The image of Launchpad burned intensely in his mind. He turned around and ran into a tall figure. It was Launchpad. He backed up and stood defensively. 

"Fall for what?" Launchpad asked. 

'Nothing, come on, let's find an exit," Fenton instructed. He paused, "Are you the real Launchpad?" 

"I think I am," Launchpad said, he pinched his arm to test this. "Hey, wait! Did you see a fake double too? I almost fell for mine."

Fenton squirmed at the thought of Launchpad seeing any portion of his, from his point of view, unattractive and scrawny body. "Yeah, I saw one. Who exactly did you see in particular?" Fenton managed to squeak out. 

Launchpad peered nervously around the room. "No one really. I don't think you would recognize them. Uh, what about you?" 

"Same" Fenton said flatly. The pair walked together towards a break in the mist. Suddenly the mist rose and fell down in sharply cold water droplets. The lights from an unknown source dimmed and went out in a flash. Frightened, they reached towards each other's hands. Scrooge stepped through the doorway that was just a few feet away from them. He tossed a plate-sized orb between his hands. The two dropped their hands away from each other.

"The Orb of Hestia, otherwise known as the main power source for this here temple. The temple's inherent, eh, magic will kick in soon. We best be on our way before it all resets." Scrooge explained to the nephews and Webby. "Oh, there you are you two. Where have you been?" before they could answer, he continued, "It appears you're fine. Come along now, let's get going." 

They took a glance at each other before they turned away and walked out of the Temple of Aphrodite. 


	3. Mother and Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenton talks with his mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fenton's mother is here named Rosa Crackshell-Cabrera.  
> Something a little short after the last chapter.

Fenton quietly closed the door behind him, careful to not make any loud noise. A lamp turned on in front of him, his mother sat in the chair beside it. Fenton jumped and clutched his chest. "Oh, hey Mom." 

Her eyes glowed with anticipation. "So, how was it? Did you get that footage for the Board of Directors? You've been telling me they're getting impatient with the lack of 'concrete data' regarding the Gizomoduck project." 

"We weren't able to take the official shots we wanted, we ran into a little trouble neither of us anticipated. I did happen to get some nice looking ones from the Gizmo-Cam" Fenton said as opened the suitcase and popped out the lens of the helmet. Rosa eagerly motioned for him to sit next to her. He leaned in on the arm of the chair.  

"I like this one," she said, the picture was the one Fenton had taken of the statue of Storkules and Argus. Suddenly her face lit up. "You were able to go to Ithaquack? Fenton that's incredible! I'm so happy for you." she exclaimed as she nearly lept from the chair. "Any more?" she asked. Fenton kept on scrolling, aquamarine waves crashed on the purple rocky hillsides, locals sat and chatted while they ate from bowls. He eventually arrived at the photos relevant to their mission. The worn red stone of Aphrodite's temple could be seen in crisp detail, the musty air wafered out of the entrance in vaguely visible clouds, vines curled into hearts along it' walls. Flashes of the enchanted Eros figures followed, Rosa shot a look over to Fenton although her occupation as a police officer and the fact she fought her own shadow not too far back had softened what would have been a shocked reaction.

Fenton instinctively swiped again, as he anticipated that nothing would be there, the Gizmoduck suit had failed about that time. Instead, a mostly glitched out image appeared. In the center, and what happened to be the clearest area of the image was the illusionary shirtless Launchpad swimming in the steamy waters. Now Ms. Crackshell-Cabrera was shocked. "Who's that Fenton?" 

"Ma! It's not what you think. One of the traps of the cave was an illusion inducing room and that's just one of the illusions." Fenton babbled. 

Rosa raised an eyebrow. "So Aphrodite's temple just happens to have an illusion looking exactly like that nice man who helped you out with the Gyro-B.U.D.D.Y System malfunction? What's his name? Launchpad. I remember him, he's a pretty kind-hearted guy according to what you've told me." Fenton slouched in the chair embarrassed. "My son, I may not be well-tuned to the ins and outs of magic but I know plenty about the powers of love." Fenton slinked further into the chair. "Have you talked to him yet?" 

"Not exactly, Ma. It hasn't exactly been easy, I got him a lunch on the trip and then later he talked some celebrity crushes he had on some guys and girls." Fenton finally admitted 

Ma gasped. "You talked about crushes? Fenton, people who aren't close friends don't just talk about crushes so early. He's trying to get your attention." 

"It wasn't under normal circumstances exactly. There were some darts that made you shout out your crushes and attractions." Fenton added. Ma looked away briefly when she realized she had no idea what was going on now. 

"I know this is awkward, but you understand that I just want you to be happy. Promise me you'll talk to him, okay?" 

*****  

19 Years Ago, 1998

"Promise me you'll talk to him, okay Ma? Fenton squeaked before he tried to waddle off towards his make-shift "lab" in the garage. 

"Fenton, wait. I need to speak with you," Rosa said, muffled by an attempt to hold back tears. Fenton slipped back and sat in the chair beside her at the table. She took his hand and carefully placed it into the grasp of hers. " I can't talk to your father. He-he doesn't want to talk right now." Fenton stared at her confused, briefly and then his face contorted into a sudden realization.

"He finally left us?" Fenton asked softly. Rosa laughed solemnly through tears. She removed her hands from around Fenton's. "I knew you were too bright to not understand, and yes, he did leave. I don't think he was too eager about staying and continuing any connection." Rosa sank her head into her hands and stayed silent. 

"Are you okay Mom?" Fenton asked. She drew him in and held him to her side. "No, but these things never stay as they do for long, what about you, _mi amor_? Rosa hoarsely whispered. Fenton was quiet and only pushed himself closer into his mother's hug. 

*****  

15 Years Ago, 2003 

"Promise me you'll talk to him, you've got to live Fenton. When I was a teenager I didn't have this chance. My father was a real stickler for the traditional approach." Rosa requested in a commanding tone. 

"Ma, I'm fifteen and I'm doing well in school. You've told me yourself that I've got a bright future ahead." Fenton said in an attempt to steer the conversation away from its original topic. 

"Let me tell you something. Those smarts won't bring you very far anywhere if you don't have the experience to back it up. You can't change the world if you haven't lived it." Rosa fired back. She couldn't help but to crack the smallest of smiles. Fenton often announced his purpose in life as being one to help others, to change the world. 

Fenton caught on and smiled too for a brief moment. He frowned and said, "What will everyone else think, I don't think I'm ready for everyone to know?" 

"I'm not asking for this to be public knowledge, all I want is for you to try talking to him. It doesn't even have to imply a date. It's important you explore these feelings, and at your own pace." Fenton opened his mouth ajar before being hushed prematurely by his mother. "I'm not pushing you beyond your pacing because you obviously need to vent and that's okay. Fenton, you've been talking about your new lab partner and the feelings you have for him more than anything else lately. Talking about what you feel can be therapeutic, but actions are required. Inactive equipment can't give you the results. Fenton, my son, I never got to vent properly and it hurt me for so long. It damages you, nothing stable can be built from a foundation so malleable and unsure. It can hurt others too." 

"Ma!" Fenton said as he approached an increasingly worried Rosa. 

"I'm bi, Fenton. Gloria from work, I've been dating her. Those workplace events have only ever been just the two of us." 

Fenton moved in for a hug. They sat there together in solidarity. "I'll promise to talk to him if you talk more about her. I want to be able to give you snarky advice on things too." 

Rosa gave a playful slap on the shoulder and they hugged again.

*****  

Present Day, 2018 

"I don't know, Ma. He's a really great guy. I don't want to ruin what we have now. It's nice how things are." Fenton lied.

Rosa simply shrugged. "If what's the current situation right now is making you happy, then I'm happy." Rosa added, "But I do want, grandchildren, Fenton. Adopted or not." She clarified that it would be one day, rather than any time soon. Rosa looked at Fenton concerningly. "You must be tired and I've kept you up chatting." She yawned. "Looks like I've kept myself up as well." They said their goodnights and Fenton slipped off toward his room but not before he heard the pop of static and the faint, low-volume sound of "Patos de la Pasion"

"Well, at least I'm not keeping her up." Fenton thought to himself. He flopped down on his bed and stared at the spinning ceiling fan. He dug through his pocket and held a scrap of paper. A sequence of numbers was carefully inked onto the onion-skin thin paper. The penmanship was beautiful, bold and large while still retaining an intricacy in the loops and strokes. Fenton took a deep breath.  

*****  

Earlier that day...

 Fenton sat down next to Launchpad, he reasoned it would have been more awkward to change his seat since that morning. As he expected, they sat in silence. Launchpad flew the _Sunchaser_ effortlessly.  Occasionally, he would hum to himself, always it would be the theme to _Darkwing Duck_ , his feet would tap along when possible. Fenton sat still but nervous. The tapping of his feet was not in any particular rhythm but rather a fervent intensity. He asked himself if Launchpad really hadn't seen him in the temple. After all, he recognized those celebrities. Of course, perhaps the illusion was meant to be more, intimate. Fenton pulled up from his thoughts to catch a slight movement from Launchpad's head as it turned to look back at the plane's console. Fenton peered at the time, it had been nearly an hour of overthinking, and probably a nap as well. They were near Duckburg. 

McDuck Mansion was painted a light pink from the sun setting behind violet clouds. An icy blue spread behind the sun's path. Ms. Beakly waited outside the plane when the doors opened, her apron blew in the wind.  Webby ran up to her despite being tired out from today's run. The boys dragged their feet across the lawn, Louie stumbled across, his hoodie drawn over his face.  Scrooge followed with the Orb of Hestia in his hands. Fenton ran after him with the suitcase. "Scrooge, wait! He stopped for Fenton. Fenton handed him a USB from Gizmoduck. 

"What's this? I don't know how to use this kind of thing, just prepare a presentation for the Board. If I take it I'll probably lose the tiny thing." Scrooge suggested and handed Fenton back the USB. 

Fenton slipped the USB into the helmet and the suit back in the case. Launchpad walked out of the Sunchaser. From where Fenton stood, he could see the sunset glitter in his eyes. In a surprise to Fenton, he approached him. A copy of the _Sunchaser_ 's manual was beneath his arm. He tore off a corner of a page and wrote something swiftly with a cheap blue pen. He noticed Fenton's shocked expression and told him, "It's okay, I don't really need it. Flying's like cooking once you know the recipe, you can do it again with a few different tricks." before he handed him the slip of paper. He then followed the others towards McDuck Mansion. Fenton looked down at the paper, it was a phone number.

 


	4. Dancing in the Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New information on Della confirms one of Webby's questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look forward to weekly releases on Tuesdays!

Webby Vanderquack was likely the sharpest tool in the kitchen drawer aside from her grandmother, who had spent far more time against the blade sharpener of life. She saw the box-shaped bulge from beneath Scrooge's coat. She also saw him look at her reading the "Tawnya de Duckpicka" McDuck file. If she was crafty enough to take secretive glances to find things out it would only be fair for Scrooge to do the same. Webby prepared herself to hold her hand of cards close to her chest and out of the prying eyes of Scrooge. 

Scrooge McDuck was no fool of a Scotsman. As he was keen to point out, his years of adventuring and near death escapades had done nothing to weaken his intellect and his careful eye for details. The littlest Vanderquack was hiding something and he was determined to find out just exactly what it was. His poker face would remain stone cold as he moved the pieces across the chess board.  

***** 

Scrooge placed the Orb of Hestia in the garage for safekeeping in a box under a pile of likely-haunted busts. "We're one step closer" he whispered, the orb emanated a soft red glow in a slow rhythm.  ~~~~He stepped back and checked his coat for the box Selene had given him. He pulled it out, "Della" was chiseled into the stone surface. His fingers curled around the edges prepped to open it but they failed to. Scrooge's eyes grew wet and he slipped it back beneath the scarlet folds of his coat. He shut the door behind him and headed toward the main hall. Webby peered from a corner down the hall. She checked for anyone else and slipped into the garage. She examined several boxes before she stopped. Spots without dust were peppered across the top, she toppled over the busts. She paused and did a silent facepalm. Her body was still as she listened for any movement toward the door. It was quiet. She continued and lifted the box's top, only the orb was inside. She replaced the cover, careful to only allow her fingers to touch the spots where the dust had already been wiped away by careless hands. The busts she put back haphazardly, it wasn't like they didn't move on their own when no one else was looking. Webby scurried down the hall, determined not to lose track of Scrooge, the box must still be on his person.

"Hey, Webby! Have you found anything out yet?" Dewey shouted. Webby glared and threw her hands in the air in confusion.  

"So much for being discrete!" she spat out under constrained breath. "And no, I haven't found anything yet. He still has the box with him. We've got to hurry before he stashes it somewhere." She tossed him a pair of goggles. They continued to run and leap of plant pots and swing on the lamp necks until they noticed a figure who stood over them. It was Ms. Beakley. 

"Just what exactly are the two of you doing running about causing a ruckus?" Ms. Beakley demanded. 

"Nothing, Granny. We're just playing Ultimate Tag again." Webby said. Ms. Beakley looked unconvinced. 

"I'm not seeing the fear in Dewey's eyes, and where are the other two, Huey and Louie?" Ms. Beakley prodded. 

Dewey immediately interjected. "We're in teams, that's why it's called "Ultimate" Tag because there is now twice the fun. Huey and Louie are on the other team." 

"Whatever it is, just refrain from making a mess of the entire house. Webby, remember it's your Granny that has to clean it all up." She leaned in to whisper, "Ducksworth isn't too helpful" 

"I heard that." Ducksworth passively mentioned as he floated through the wall into the next one. Ms. Beakley rolled her eyes and plugged in her headphones. 

"Nice catch there, Dewey." Webby complimented. "Now let's hurry, Scrooge has probably hidden whatever he's hiding from us already." The two hurried into the TV room. Louie reclined on the sofa, he stuffed popcorn into his mouth while watching _The Ottoman Empire_. 

"I'm watching something here- wait what are you doing?" Louie yelled as the bowl fell from his lab to the floor. 

"We don't have time to explain. Just come on." Webby shouted before she dashed away further into the house. She threw another pair of goggles behind her. Louie scowled and shut the TV off. 

"My snack is ruined so I might as well join them," Louie said before he joined the others. 

The three of them snuck around corners and jumped over various household obstacles. They tried to land on the carpet to decrease the noise although Louie slipped a few times. Scrooge would stop, they could see from his shadow that he would turn and then continue. They climbed up the rails of a staircase only to be confronted by Huey. He nearly spoke but they all simultaneously raised their fingers to their lips.  

"What's going on guys?" he whispered. Webby glared at Dewey, hoping he would follow this example next time they needed to be discrete. 

"We're trying to find out what Scrooge is hiding from us," Webby said and handed him goggles. 

Huey turned it away. "I don't think we should do this. Scrooge wouldn't hide anything from else anymore after what he hid about our Mom. He's learned his lesson and we should respect his growth as an individual." Huey argued. They stared dead still back at him. 

"Huey, this isn't even about... our Mom. We just want to know what's up. Don't you remember how fun it was to sneak a quick preview of our Christmas presents? All we're having is good mischievous fun." Dewey responded. " It could be some ancient tool that can give you some new knowledge or skill. It might even be helpful in getting a Junior Woodchuck Badge," he added to up the temptation. 

"Alright, I'm in. Just don't say I didn't warn you beforehand-" Huey was cut off as Dewey grabbed him by the arm and darted off in the direction of Scrooge.

The heavy oak doors of Scrooge's office were shut. Webby leaned her head up to the comically oversized keyhole. She adjusted a dial on her goggles and they scoped in on his desk. Scrooge sat with the box in front of him. He fished through a drawer to the side. His eyes were away from the door. The boys leaned in as well, they hoped to get a glance at what was happening inside. The door creaked with their added weight and burst open. The children rolled across the carpet and directly in front of his desk. 

"Having fun at your little game of "Ultimate Tag"' Scrooge weakly mocked. His mood was somber. "I bet you're wondering what's inside the box. If so, I can't blame the lot of you." He paused. "I've been waiting for, a better time to open it with all of you but I can see you've made up your own time." He held the box up to them, the lid faced them. All but Huey made the smallest jolt towards him as they expected him to say that he told them so. He didn't. Like his brothers, Huey was speechless. Set in stone, the name "Della" was carved into the rocky texture, worn down with time. They pulled up chairs and scooted them toward the desk. Together they grabbed the lid of the box and lifted. 

Browned and weathered envelopes laid inside. Pieces of broken wax seals lay at the bottom. Scrooge burst into laughter. The children sat bewildered. Scrooge continued to laugh until he wiped a droplet from his eye and picked up one of the letters and turned it around. The closing flap had a lipstick stain romantically kissed there. It was addressed to Selene. "I was so concerned it was going to be something serious I forgot the obvious," Scrooge paused to laugh a little more "They're just some of her old love letters to Selene." Scrooge looked relieved.

"Oh, there is no way I'm going to read my mom's old letters. Peace, I'm out of here." Louie proclaimed as he held up a peace sign and left the room. 

"It's incredibly rude to read other's correspondences, perhaps even illegal in some cases. I would be breaking the Junior Woodchuck Oath if I read them." Huey stated although it could easily be determined he simply wanted to leave as soon as possible. 

Dewey appeared conflicted."Webby, I don't think there's anything worth examining in those letters. I mean, what could we possibly find in them other than some past romance before she met my dad? I'm sorry, but I'm out." Dewey said and slowly walked out. 

"Come on, aren't we a team Dewey?" she growled. Webby looked towards Scrooge. "Can I take a look, maybe I can find something useful?" 

"I guess there can't be any harm in it," he said, the box was pushed towards Webby. It stopped. "On second thought, perhaps it would be best if you got your grandmother first. Just so she can check them over, in case they get, eh, saucy."  

"Okay, I'll have her look it over," she said while her fingers pulled the box from Scrooge's weak grasp. He tried to stop her, his mouth opened but he couldn't gather the effort to make a sound. She had already vanished out of the office.  

Webby was already halfway to her room. The mansion's second garage, Launchpad's room, was to her right. Her self-made race paused. Launchpad was on the couch, the TV was set to a low volume, an odd fact considering he had _Darkwing Duck_ playing. A light glow glared across his face, Launchpad's focus was directed towards his phone. Every minute his fingers would slip into rapid taps and then he would giggle or crack a smile while he held his phone close to his chest.

Webby continued on, although now she now crept onwards. She did this despite the fact it was unlikely Launchpad would divert his attention from his phone to anything but a request from her grandmother or Scrooge. When she reached her room, she plopped herself down on her bed. She untied her bow and laid the ribbon on her nightstand. With a letter in hand, she laid back against a pillow. The spice of the yellowed paper wafted and mixed with a salty sea perfumed scent. Individually, she noticed, each letter had their own distinct scent, as well as a varying shade of lipstick. Webby never considered Della to be one to own such a large quantity of beauty products. She had always imagined her to be in a constant state of focus on having fun adventures, her thoughts experiencing self-dumps of information not relevant to temples, ancient artifacts, curse incantations, and her family.

Her hands delicately took the letter from its leathery envelope. It unfolded to reveal handwriting that was rushed, the cursive letters collapsed into near shorthand. Webby held the paper close to her eyes and tried to pick up on Della's calligraphy and style.  

*****   

Dear Selene, 

I know it has been quite some time since I've visited your wonderful island of Ithaquack. My uncle's adventures are always are a joy to plot and experience but I think we both know that the time we spend together has a far different and deeper meaning to me. That first night when I ran my fingers through your golden hair, the comb acting only as an illusory tool to guide our connection, I felt changed. An incredible weight lifted off my shoulders when I whispered in your ear my secret. Then you turned around and told me the same secret. Although, to you, it wasn't really a secret, was it? You cooed a white lie that night to me that changed who I saw myself to be forever. All the possibilities opened their doors just as they had been for you your entire life. Our mix of natural and supernatural love turned out to be of the strongest variety. I didn't want to leave that night, you probably knew that. I'm not great at keeping secrets or hiding my intentions. I ache for the time when we can recreate that moment, extend it into infinity. I hope a time comes where my path crosses over to your island, our paradise.  

Love, 

Della Duck 

***** 

The bass dropped just as large crumbs were sucked into the vacuum, it created a scratching noise that drowned out the pivotal moment. "Gah" mumbled Ms. Beakley, who pulled out her headphones and shut off her iPod. "If I can't enjoy a decent song then I prefer silence" she whispered to herself. She ran the vacuum over the carpet harder now, which achieved a deeper clean than before.  She rolled her eyes as she turned around to get the carpet behind her to match with her newly created status quo. Within seconds of being turned around, she saw Scrooge approach, his shoes dragged in the dirt over her new deep clean. 

"Ms. Beakley, have you seen Webby?" Scrooge inquired. 

"She was off playing a game of 'Ultimate Tag' with the ruffians. Now, would you mind getting those dirty shoes off my clean carpet?" Ms. Beakley scolded. 

Scrooge ignored her and continued. "And you haven't seen her since?" 

"No, I haven't, now please Scrooge take off your shoes," she commanded. Scrooge slipped them off and held them."Wait, why do you need to know if Webby talked with me?" she asked.  

"Selene found a box of... Della's and when we opened it together it was just a collection of some old love letters. None of the boys wanted to read them but Webby seemed interested. I told her to ask you first, as I was concerned they might get a little, mature 

 

"So, you just let her take them?" Ms. Beakley said harshly. 

"I didn't really have a chance to stop her, you know how fast she is. Not to mention she's usually the most responsible of the four, I thought she would tell you." Scrooge said.  

"Well, she didn't. You don't think they get that bad, do you?" she asked with a desired answer already in mind. 

"I really wouldn't believe it could get that bad, but it's also Della, she's almost as much as a mixed bag as Donald," he said. 

"We've got to go then. Hurry, let's go" The two of them sped off towards Webby's room. 

***** 

Dear Selene, 

I'm so sorry. I know you told me you didn't want to hear that again. You told me you value every single moment we had spent together, that I didn't have to say sorry. That you understood. I value them too, that's why I have to apologize. I have to ask forgiveness for my wandering heart tearing apart what we had. It wasn't reckless, I know we broke up before I began to see him but I still feel responsible. You have done so much for me, in shaping who I am. I just want to thank you for everything. The words that have remained unspoken for so long. You've changed my life and I hope that I've changed yours. I want to be friends, just that. Let's continue to change ourselves, together. 

P.S. I'm writing this bit later after I've stopped being an emotional wreck. Scrooge has got an adventure near Ithaquack planned very soon. I'm excited for you to meet- 

*****  

The rest of the letter had been torn off. Tears gushed from Webby's eyes. She clutched the box to her chest and grinned. After she wiped the tears from her eyes she began to walk out of the room. Scrooge and Ms. Beakley stood by the door in awe. Wordlessly Webby slipped the box into Scrooge's arms and walked away. Ms. Beakley and Scrooge looked towards each other confused. "Well, I guess it was all alright then," Scrooge said and turned away, contempt with his response. Ms. Beakley stared intently at him and huffed. She too left, although it was in the direction of Webby.  

Louie had returned to watching _The Ottoman Empire_ and Webby had joined him. "How can they be mixing the Baroque and modern styles, it clashes with the chair?" Webby 

"Shh, they're geniuses far beyond their times in the category of furniture creation. If you don't get it now, then I'm not sure you can ever understand their greatness" Louie commanded. Webby rolled her eyes and watched as a perfectly constructed Baroque style ottoman was sawed into several pieces before her eyes.

Just as she felt she could stand it any longer, she heard her name being called. Webby approached her grandmother. They sat down on a couch in another room. "Would you like to talk with me Webby?" Ms. Beakley asked softly. Webby nodded. 

"Granny, I think I like girls." Webby squeaked before she burst into a fit of tears. Ms. Beakley pulled her close. 

"There there, child. It's alright. I will always love you." Ms. Beakley said before she too burst into tears. They held each other tightly. There were no more questions, no statements. Only a silent love. 

"Hey there Ms. B, I'm heading out. Catch up with you later," Launchpad announced as he waved goodbye from the front doorway. He then noticed what had happened. He gave a small smile and two thumbs-up. Ms. Beakley couldn't help but burst into laughter. 

"What was that about?" Webby asked as she wiped the remaining tears from her eyes. 

"Well, I had a feeling about you and I just wanted to be there and make sure you never felt like the love I have for you would cease once you told me. He acted as a, "coming out" wingman of sorts." Ms. Beakley said, her words stumbling out in bursts.

"Really Granny?" Webby giggled. "I love you," They hugged again. Suddenly, Webby's head shot up. "Wait, does that mean Launchpad is..?"  

"Yes." Ms. Beakley answered. 

"So is he single? Is he going out with anyone?" Webby burst out. 

"He gave me his permission to tell, but I just don't feel right personally telling anyone-"  

Webby cut her off, "It's Fenton, isn't it? I knew it, he kept on taking glances over at him on the plane ride and then Fenton gave him that bowl." 

"Ah ah ah, I can't say." Ms. Beakley said.

"Come on Granny, quit playing," Webby begged. All Ms. Beakley did in response was smile. "Alright. I'm going to go check up on Dewey. Love you." 

"Love you too dear." Ms. Beakley said as she watched Webby scurry away into the depths of the mansion. 

Scrooge came down the main staircase and passed by the speeding Webby. "So I guess it was alright after all" Scrooge said to Ms. Beakley 

"No, it's not." Ms. Beakley said.

Scrooge looked around confused. "It sure looked okay to me."  

She pulled out a spray bottle and began to run towards Scrooge. "Scrooge McDuck I told you to take off your shoes," she yelled. Before he could begin to slip them off a spritz of water hit him squarely in the face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Week:  
> The Terror that Flaps in the Night- Launchpad and Fenton share more than a movie watching experience


	5. The Terror that Flaps in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Launchpad and Fenton share more than a movie watching experience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, for the slight delay, Wi-Fi was down earlier

Launchpad grabbed a bag of carrots off the shelf and inspected them. Once he seemed satisfied he dropped them into his shopping basket. He strolled down another aisle and selected a bag of red quinoa. A container of tofu was next and then he headed towards the check-out. Self-checkout was down, some glitch in the system according to the crackling intercom. Each of the lanes was clustered and slow-moving. He should have learned from yesterday it was a bad idea to go to Bargain Anne's around noon. Launchpad tried to piece together what was going wrong. He wasn't a bad cook, in fact, many had suggested he should compete in the higher circuits. However, there was something about this recipe he couldn't grasp. He would add one spice, exchange one for another, change heating times, drain less water, and none of it seemed to help the dish taste right. Launchpad was sure it could pass but he wanted it to be perfect. The only positive that had come of it was that he had provided several meals for both himself and the Duck family. Ms. Beakley was relieved and she seemed to enjoy the dish a lot. Everyone else was getting tired of the dish, an understandable sentiment. 

Launchpad had arrived at the head of the line. The same cashier from yesterday was there again. He was a crane. A striking red strip of feathers trailed down from the back of his head to his back. Glasses framed his face handsomely and a small mustache hung meekly from the end of his beak. His nametag said, "Mike". " Hey, didn't I see you here yesterday?" Mike said playfully. 

"Yeah, you did. I was getting the same items too, you rang me up." Launchpad responded, a bit embarrassed at admitting his cooking struggle. 

"What's the reason you're back so soon? Did you happen to forget something or did everyone want an encore of the meal?" Mike asked 

Launchpad perked up a little when he said "encore". "Man, this guy's a fancy one, I'll have to spice things up in this conversation." he thought to himself. "No, it's not that. The recipe just isn't coming together how I want it to be. Something's not working out. I'm looking to shake things up with a little spice." Launchpad said, not realizing his fancy tone was coming across slightly flirtatious. 

"Oh," Mike gasped. "So things aren't working out, eh? I think I might be able to help you out," he said coyly. 

"That would be great! Would you mind directing me towards one of your aisles that would benefit me the most?" Launchpad asked in the same tone. 

"Sir!" Mike exclaimed while blushing. "Here are your bags, and, eh, here's your receipt." he scribbled something down on it and handed it to Launchpad. 

"Thank you, sir, have a wonderful day," Launchpad said as he left with his bags. "He never did tell me what aisle and what item to look for. Maybe I should call this number he left me on the receipt." he thought. 

*****

The food still didn't mesh together as to Launchpad's standards. He returned to the store the following day, far earlier in the day to avoid the swarms of patrons. A grumpy and stout elderly swan ended up as his cashier. A little Launchpad charm went a long way and they ended up in a discussion about her recent divorce, the root of her sour demeanor. 

"I'm so sorry, sir. Even with my divorce, I have no right to treat anyone like I have been." she croaked. 

"No worries ma'am, everyone has those bad days. Personally, I'm having quite some difficulty making this dish for an upcoming date. You'll find love again, age is just a number and I'm sure there's a hot swan your age who would be very interested in someone such as yourself." Launchpad teased. He pointed towards a swan down a nearby aisle. "He goes to my UU church and he was at the Senior Singles Mixer last week" Launchpad added

"Oh, you." she snorted. Launchpad tipped his hat and left the store after leaving an above average tip.  

*****

At home, he stood in front of his counter. His apron was tied tightly around his waist. He wasn't too sure he could mess up again. Fenton was supposed to come over for their long-discussed date in two days. He had to have it perfect before then. He took a calming deep breath and picked up his phone. Launchpad called the number of the cashier. 

"Hello," Mike said 

"Hey, this is Launchpad. We were talking at Bargain Anne's the other day, you gave me your number. I was wondering if you could tell me what you thought I should add to that grilled tofu and carrots dish." Launchpad said; he didn't bother using his "fancy" tone as he believed it had gotten informal once he got his number. 

"Oh, I think there's been a misunderstanding," Mike said embarrassed. "I thought you were flirting with me yesterday, hence me giving you my number." 

"Sorry about that. I've been known to be oblivious about these types of things. But I'm still open if you want to go out. I have a date planned this weekend and I think things are going well between us. I'll ask him about it and get back to you." Launchpad suggested. 

"Don't worry about it. I didn't realize you were in a relationship already- " Mike said in a falsely nonchalant tone.

"But that doesn't necessarily mean-"Launchpad tried to interject. 

"Just add two teaspoons of ground cumin and you should be good to go," Mike said before hanging up. The tone rang sharply in his ears.

Launchpad shook his head and then searched the spice rack for the cumin. By now the preparation of the recipe was second nature, he only had to account for the small blip that encompassed adding the cumin. Without his notice, Launchpad prepared the dish with a hidden vigor and intensity, spurred by anger. He didn't mind rejection and the entirety of the previous interaction had been unexpected. What had been expected, sadly, was the prejudice. He didn't and couldn't blame Mike individually but the overarching fact of it all ignited the flames of his upset mood.  They always left, without leaving a moment to explain what was understandably a complex situation. Launchpad felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. The very real fear of Fenton responding in a very similar fashion filled him with a deeply rooted dread.

Several times the dish nearly came to a ruin. Launchpad's newest distraction caused close calls on every step. At last, the dish was complete and when it came to Launchpad's tasting, the results were up to his standards. He carried the pot out to the kitchen of the mansion and had everyone else test it as well. They agreed with his long-awaited conclusion. 

***** 

Fenton stood next to the dented garage door. He smoothed out his shirt and did one last check on his slicked back hair. Fenton never tried to keep a messy head of hair but it always seemed to have that look. That night he hoped to make a noticeable difference. He knocked on a panel of metal, which produced a hollow rumble. An electric buzz sounded as the panels folded up and slid into the ceiling. Launchpad had set up a string of ambient fairy lights along the walls and some amber candles on his elevated coffee table. Launchpad instantly pulled Fenton into a hug. When they separated Fenton saw Launchpad had exchanged his typical pilot outfit for a formal but casual violet polo and white pants. His red hair had been snuggly combed. His iconic hat absent. Launchpad guided Fenton over to the couch. 

"I made this great dish, it's a red quinoa salad with carrots and grilled tofu. It should be finishing up any moment now." Launchpad explained eagerly. "There's a _Darkwing Duck_ marathon on and I know you said you were interested in getting into it." 

Fenton made a small irk with his face. He had no desire to watch all of it in just one sitting. Launchpad seemed to have picked up on this as he added: "Oh, it started a long time ago, these are just my favorites that will be on." Fenton breathed out in relief and the two shared a hearty laugh. The oven beeped and Launchpad hurried over to it excitedly. He slipped on his apron and opened its door. The scent wafered across the room, Fenton's mouth watered. Launchpad skillfully slid the hot contents onto two cool plates. Steam rose in complicated swirls and figures. "Careful it's hot, although it might not just be the plate," Launchpad said. 

Fenton ignored the tease but he still let slip a smile and said "It looks incredible" all while he took a strong whiff of the meal.

The spoke as the warm food passed their lips.  A silence never existed, if one chewed they listened at the same time. Hours passed and soon only a few cold grains of quinoa were left on the plate. They leaned back on the couch. Fenton closed his eyes and folded his arms. Launchpad too had fallen into the same position although he cracked one his eyes open slightly to look at the peaceful Fenton. 

Launchpad burst from his nap and looked at the clock, it was 9:35. He scrambled for the remote and the TV clicked on. The sudden movement caused Fenton to stir and eventually wake up. "We didn't miss much, only five minutes." Fenton noticed Launchpad was devoted to the notion of Fenton seeing this particular batch of episodes. They got a few episodes in and Fenton couldn't deny that it had exceeded his preconception of the show. Although he wasn't proud to say it, he had researched the show just a little before the date, just to feel familiar with the concept. The forums had been particularly nasty about the show's quality. Fenton was glad to have been surprised. The sets were nicely designed for the allotted budget and Jim Starling's acting and stunts were phenomenal.

The current episode ended and Fenton noticed Launchpad had taken in increased interest in Fenton's reaction. Another episode started as normal, the opening credits played. Fenton realized that a name had disappeared. Darkwing's sidekick was completely devoid from the episode. The sets were no better than an under-funded community play. Perhaps worst of all, Jim Starling seemed to have lost his unique charm. He tripped during his stunts and his eyes were empty of their old gleam. Regardless, Fenton stayed attentive to the screen, there was still a plot hidden under the various complications. This must have been what the forums had referenced. The end credits rolled and instead of another episode a commercial played. Launchpad switched the TV off. There was a brief moment of static and then Launchpad found the other remote to fully turn it off. 

"That was the finale?" Fenton questioned. 

"No," Launchpad said quietly. "There's a few more after that last one. It doesn't get any better. You found out that Darkwing Duck was an inspiration to me back when you helped me with Scrooge and the car but Jim Starling has got to be my hero." 

Fenton nodded. "I remember" 

"They outed him. They found him with Terrance McDonald, the actor for his sidekick. McDonald was fired as soon as they had access to a pink slip. He couldn't find a job after that. Starling was only kept on because they needed that slot until the end of fall premiere season.  Advertisers pulled out, the budget collapsed, and Starling couldn't keep in contact with McDonald. If it wasn't for his contract he would've left as soon as they sacked McDonald. Once the news became public, Starling refused to answer their questions. He only sought to educate others. Of course, they ignored him, but I listened. I taped those news segments and rewatched them over and over. It was the first time I saw myself on-screen and it was in response to hate." Launchpad confessed.

Fenton leaned on Launchpad. " I was watching a telenovela with my mom, I was 11. The heroine's brother, Lance, had fallen in love with their neighbor, Keith. Before then, it was a continuous queerbait that went on for seasons. It drove me and my mom nuts. The episode right after they confessed their love they were six feet underground. Car accident." 

"I guess we both have tragic beginnings" Launchpad joked. He paused. "Fenton?" 

"Yes," he answered 

"Remember on the plane ride to Aphrodite's temple when you said I must feel great every time I travel, that it must be exhilarating? To some degree it is, but travel's just another way to notice that life is pretty lit. Near death experiences and all in my case. But I don't need flying to realize that. That's what I like about you. You know the good in people so much that it motivates you to dress up inside of a robot."  Launchpad said. "And you're really smart," he added.

Fenton was speechless for a moment. "Launchpad, you're so kind, and you're unbelievably complex. Every time I learn something about you I want to learn something more," he admitted frankly. They continued to spout increasingly sappy compliments at each other until Fenton broke the cycle. "Which way do you swing, Launchpad? If you don't mind me asking." 

"No problem, I'm a pol-," Fenton raised an eyebrow, he noticed Launchpad had gotten uncharacteristically uncomfortable. " uh, I'm pan, pansexual. Found out exactly what I could call it when Janelle Mallard came out earlier this year. It was nice to be able to put a label on things." Launchpad said. "What about you?" 

"I'm just gay," Fenton said. "I haven't kissed a girl to see otherwise but I also haven't felt the urge to kiss one so I guess that answers it." 

Launchpad looked at him concerned. "It's okay to be 'just gay', Fenton. It could probably be preferred, you've got less to explain. After so many times it can get a little nerve-wracking, but liking more types of people isn't better than liking one. " 

"Oh, I'm sorry," Fenton said embarrassed. "I guess I don't realize how hard it can be to like a lot of different people." 

"Hey, it's all right buddy. No one's completely woke. You certainly weren't during that noir-themed episode." Launchpad joked. 

"Hey," Fenton said playfully. "It's not my fault your cooking was so good. A full stomach makes me sleepy." Launchpad blushed. There was a pause.

"Sorry to spring this on you buddy but, is this serious? What we have going on here. I know it has only been two weeks but I don't want to get emotionally attached if this is only going to be a short fling. Not that it would be wrong, but I want something serious." Launchpad asked suddenly. His mind raced briefly, and to him, shamefully, at the prospect of never having to tell Fenton who he was.

"I don't know. I've had a lot of fun hanging out after we've been working, texting late at night, and I really liked this date. I'm just not sure I can commit to you so early. Fenton said meekly, startled by the question. "I want more but I'm not ready to confirm so soon. I want us both to be happy but will it make us happy if we're together, as a couple?" Fenton said and looked for the hurt to appear in Launchpad's expression. It never appeared.

"I'm not asking for a commitment to me. All I want is a commitment to try this out. A confident and passionate attempt at making this work." Launchpad answered completely serious, his voice remained unwavering. 

"I want to try. I like you Launchpad." Fenton said.

"I like you too, Fenton," Launchpad said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Week:  
> "Secret" Club-Webby wants to talk, in private


	6. "Secret" Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Webby wants to talk, in private

"Welcome to another installment of Dewey Dew-night, with your host Dewey Duck," Dewey shouted to the camera. "Tonight we have a special guest, Webby Vanderquack. Here to talk about-" 

"Janelle Mallard's hit song Q.U.A.C.K, we'll be analyzing each verse as well as the accompanying music video. Then we'll look at her entire Metropolis Suite through queer theory, and-" Webby unloaded before she was stopped by Dewey. 

"What are you talking about? I thought we planned on discussing the recent developments in Huey's filmmaking badge project, The Form of Fangs, a homage to classic werewolf movies." Dewey hissed. "And I don't even understand half the things you said."

"I just wanted to change things up a little. We always talk about what you want to talk about. Why can't it be different this time?" Webby complained. 

"It's not what I want, it's what the audience wants." Dewey pulled up a complex chart, one that could've rivaled one of Webby's. "This is my very strict schedule for episode topics. Next week's topic is a presentation for Louie's "Totally Not a Pyramid Scheme" business endeavor." 

"What the audience wants? Dewey, there isn't an audience. This is just your made up show. Come on let's talk about Janelle Mallard. I've been dying to." Webby asked. 

"Shh!" Dewey hushed. "The ratings don't fare well when the fourth wall gets broken." Webby stared directly into the imaginary camera, disappointed. 

"I understand. I'll go get Huey. He'll be able to talk about his movie better anyways." Webby said. 

"Hey, that's a great idea. I'm not sure why I didn't think of that." He said before he realized that Webby planned on leaving. "Webby, wait!" He got up and ran after her. By the time she turned the corner out of the boys' room, Huey had already entered with a script the size of a phonebook, with enough tabs to hide the pages warped with inked notes.

Webby crawled onto her bed and opened up the "Tawnya de Duckpicka" file. Her eyes scanned a particular paragraph over and over. Tawnya had been bisexual, her feelings for women often expressed themselves in her art. The passage that so interested Webby detailed one of her more famous same-sex relationships with Suzy Swanodor, a famous nightclub singer. Duckpicka later painted her portrait. While the details were brief,  the paragraph was among the shortest of them all, Webby still tried to get every last feeling from it. If she could just keep the paragraph going a little bit longer then she could feel connected to the community. It had taken so long to convince herself she was who she was. The friendship bracelet meant far more than its namesake. Webby wanted to see others like herself, just so she could feel, real.  

Ms. Beakley strolled by and noticed the sour mood of her granddaughter. "What's the matter, dear?" she asked. It had been about two weeks since Webby had come out, solely to her. Within that time, Ms. Beakley had been extra attentive to Webby's feelings. Partly because she feared she had done something wrong at that pivotal moment and because she knew that it was only the first moment out of many. Webby would have to come out repeatedly to others, something that would be emotionally draining. 

"Nothing really Granny, I'm fine," Webby said in an obvious lie. 

"Is that so? So there's nothing troubling you, nothing in the slightest?" Ms. Beakley prodded. 

"Well, I guess there's this one thing," Webby mumbled. Ms. Beakley motioned for her to continue with her eyes. 

"Nobody wants to talk about queer stuff. I know I can't control the conversation all the time, and I don't. I just want to talk about things a little bit. It's one thing to know you're you, but it's another thing to have it be "real", I guess. I don't know how to explain it." Webby confessed. 

Ms. Beakley thought about it. "I think I might be able to help you out. Just give me a few days, Webby." 

***** 

Webby waited. The following day she came back to Dewey Dew-Night and talked about her opinions on "The Form of Fangs", she was especially pleased with the intended cameo of Vincent Price, the famous bat actor, who oddly enough starred in one of the classic werewolf movies after he lost the part of Dracula to a wolf. She did doubt his ability to come to the small project, as well as Huey's ability to pay him although she kept these concerns to herself. Afterward, she apologized to Dewey, while also having heavily implied he should apologize a little too. It ended with a compromise to discuss what Webby wanted in an episode that would "air" next year. The reasoning behind this was he didn't have an open slot to fill until then. Despite this, Webby was glad there had been an effort. 

 Later, during a game of legitimate "Ultimate Tag", fear-riddled faces and all, Webby noticed Ms. Beakley talking on the phone. She didn't know with who she was talking to, but she had a feeling it was related to their talk the other day. The game continued and there only happened to be one casualty. A vase had broken on the third floor which was in a hallway not frequently visited or traveled down. They cleaned up the pieces before anyone else noticed but Scrooge seemed to have picked up on the cold draft that now flew throughout the mansion unexpectedly. They were sure Ms. Beakley had discovered the source of the added weight of the garbage bag too, but no one brought it up. 

***** 

Days later Webby returned from breakfast to find a note placed on her nightstand. It instructed her to go to the room down the eastern hallway, and next to the stained glass of the rose. Webby gulped. The broken vase had been in the alcove directly across from this window. The fact that the handwriting was her grandmother's fed her concerns. As she walked she combed through her best memory of the blueprints of the mansion. She couldn't recall anything of value being held in that particular room. If anything, it was an empty room that was now used for storage. Ms. Beakley with her foot tapping in impatience could not be found. The hallway was void of anyone. Webby drew closer to the door, the sound of chatter emanated from within. Slowly, Webby pushed the old door open, it's creaking nearly silenced the noises inside. Launchpad, Rosa, Ms. Beakley, and several children sat chattering amongst themselves in a loose circle of chairs. A large painted banner hung proudly above them all. In stocky block font were the letters GSA. 

Webby gasped. "Granny, you started a GSA! I'm so happy!" Webby ran up and hugged her grandmother. 

"I talked to Scrooge and he's agreed to sponsor this district's GSA, their schools aren't able to host them, some of them refused, but regardless, here it is." She turned to address the rest of the attendants "Every Tuesday afternoon starting next week either Ms. Crackshell Cabrera, Mr. McQuack, or myself will be chaperoning the meetings. They both have busy schedules and are volunteering to take turns back and forth. Let's all give them a well-deserved round of applause." The children clapped and some even cheered. "Please direct your attention over to Ms. Crackshell-Cabrera."

Rosa stood up. "First things first, there is to be nothing, and I mean nothing but respect towards others in this room. If you don't understand someone ask them, but never make them feel insignificant to compensate for your confusion. Next, unless one allows otherwise, you are not to talk to others about what you hear at these meetings. We all know coming out is hard and it should be your choice to do so alone and no one else's." 

"But we're also here to have fun and learn more about each other. Life can be cruel and the darkness can consume our thoughts as we're reminded that we must constantly fight for a normally complicated life, but now's the time to reach beyond that for joy." Launchpad said.

Everyone stared. A few children quietly said "Lit", which failed to be completely understood by Rosa and Ms. Beakley. After the minor blip in introductions, the party continued without any further oddities. Ms. Beakley observed from afar and smiled at Webby who talked eagerly with three other girls. 

Rosa and Launchpad both approached Ms. Beakley. "We both wanted to tell you how much we appreciate you organizing this all. I would have loved to have grown up with this kind of knowledge. Maybe I would have been kinder to myself sooner. I'm so glad I get to help provide this powerful resource to others." Rosa said. 

"You know how my dads are, Ms. B. I grew up surrounded by something that felt like who I was but it was nothing compared to this. The children will get exposed to all kinds of love and identities that they might not have known has a solidifying label. I don't want to sound like I'm repeating anything but I wish I had the opportunity to be part of a GSA." 

"We're both so thankful," they said together. Rosa returned to being a chaperone and Launchpad almost followed but Ms. Beakley stopped him. 

"How's everything going? That quinoa salad was marvelous but how was everything else? You've piqued my interest." Ms. Beakley asked.

 "The date went great. I really like him and he likes me too." Launchpad said, slightly embarrassed at having to discuss his romantic night with his date's mother in such close proximity. "We have a few more dates lined up these next couple of weeks. I'm excited but also a bit nervous. I still haven't told him yet. Every time I plan on telling him in person, or even through text, my throat swells or my thumbs slow to a stop. 

"Still haven't told him what?" Ms. Beakley said curiously. 

"I guess I'm so afraid of telling others that I haven't told you yet," Launchpad awkwardly chuckled. He swallowed and paused briefly. He adjusted his posture and straightened his back. "I'm, I'm polyamorous," he blurted. 

"Well, there's nothing wrong with that Launchpad. And look how easy that was. I know you're fully capable of climbing past those fears," Ms. Beakley assured. 

"Thanks, Ms. B. I know that, and you definitely know that- you're leading the GSA after all. I'm just worried that he might not know. I've had so many drop me as an option or even leave me once I tell them who I am. I don't want to lose Fenton," Launchpad confessed. "But I know that if I say nothing, I'll be sure to lose him. That's how polyamory works, honest and frequent communication is key." 

"I won't let that happen, I'll leave telling him up to you, but I won't stop pestering you on a daily basis until you tell him. I owe you for helping me out with Webby. I won't let a bout of self-doubt let you down. The world is a lot brighter than you might initially realize Launchpad." Ms. Beakley promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Week:  
> Boy's Night Out- Launchpad is pulled away when Scrooge plans another adventure and Gizmoduck is needed in Duckburg.


	7. Boy's Night Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Launchpad is pulled away when Scrooge plans another adventure and Gizmoduck is needed in Duckburg.

"You will most definitely tell Fenton you're polyamorous on this next date. You will not panic and end up not telling him despite the fact he's a great guy who cares about you and deserves to know this integral aspect of who you are," Launchpad commanded to himself as he stared into a thin mirror on the door of his closet. He took a deep breath and stepped back. This date was to be more casual than some of their earlier romantic outings, Launchpad dressed as he would any other day-although he made sure to iron his shirt and shine his leather jacket. Unlike any other day, Launchpad hoped it would be the one where his now daily fear of losing Fenton would no longer prevent him from being honest about his romance style.

***** 

Fenton had tried to dress nicely the morning before his big meeting with the Board of Directors. Despite this attempt, something-either his own stress or an external influence such as the weather had pulled back his progress. In his typically ruffled hair he found himself once again on the uncomfortable chairs outside the conference room, his suitcase by his side on the floor. Scrooge appeared to have been too occupied with other affairs to deal with the complaints of not only others but himself. Perhaps that's what made Fenton anxious. Scrooge was not to be in attendance for the upcoming meeting. He would hear the results of the Gizmoduck Program's Green-light on his own. His phone blipped from his pocket. It was Launchpad. The text said "Good Luck!" with a splattering of heart emojis.

Scrooge had been including the costs of the Gizmoduck Program within his personal spending. Unfortunately, this had meant he had to expand that budget, which made the Directors unsatisfied with the whole idea of the program. They had forced Scrooge to stop his funding and for evidence be brought to them in support of Gizmoduck's benefits to society. Then they would allow the funding to resume. Both Fenton and Scrooge found the process to be a waste of time but it was out of their hands.  

The doors opened and Fenton silently crept in. He didn't dare make eye contact with the Board of Directors as he took a seat awkwardly at the opposite end of the long table.  He could manage to get a closer seat only if Scrooge warded off the judgment of the directors with his presence. Fenton currently lacked such protection. He slipped the suitcase beneath his seat. He hoped he wouldn't have to utilize his backup plan, he didn't tell Scrooge and Fenton had a feeling he wouldn't like it.  

"Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera, you've arrived, and on time at that. Although I do hope you're not trying to butter us up. We've already made our choice. Nothing can change our decision, which you'll hear in just a moment. " Bently said while he adjusted a small stack of papers. Fenton's eyes tried to track any discernable words that could give him even a fraction of his future but the distance made it impossible. 

"The data you've collected since Scrooge has initiated this program has been quite fruitful in substance but is lacking in atypical functions. From what we've been shown, Gizmoduck is no more than a tricked-out military personnel. " Bradford quipped.  

"Gentlemen of the board, while Gizmoduck may look like a mere robotic suit with a few gadgets I can do far more. The helmet can connect with the wearer's mind to create a personal and interconnected CPU unit. Such a connection at this scale is revolutionary, to say the least." Fenton said 

The Board looked unconvinced, perhaps they have seen it on this scale, or one even larger. "We've seen prosthetics and even full suits such as this one that can perform at a more fluid and impressive movement and function than Gizmoduck.  Once again, if I must repeat myself, we've seen what Gizmoduck can do and collectively have made a decision." Bradford said sternly. 

Fenton moved his feet beneath the table and slid the suitcase closer to allow the handle to reach his open hand. "Maybe I can make one last attempt to convince you, gentlemen," Fenton announced. With one quick movement, he flung the suitcase up into the air, it opened and its contents spilled out. A split second after Fenton rolled onto the table and made contact with the unfolding Gizmoduck suit. The metal wrapped around Fenton and once the transformation finished it rolled down the table. Fenton now stood directly above the buzzards. Bently glared, his thumb pushed hard against a pencil, threatening breakage. In the hands of Gizmoduck were two beakers and some crystals. "Here and now I will parade some of Gizmoduck's eccentricities that separate it from the rest of the bunch in mind-controllable technology." He tossed the crystals into an empty beaker. "This reaction is usually only achievable under strict lab conditions. The conditions are quite difficult to meet and only a few labs have the means to achieve them." The palm of the suit's right hands opens to reveal a blue flame. A series of smaller circles open around the center, appearing as if petals to the center circle. Small robotic arms reached out from within them. Fenton placed the beaker above the flame and the arms took hold of it. The Board gasped as he slipped the crystals into the blue liquid. Nothing happened. 

"Has something gone wrong with your last second experiment Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera?" Bently snorted.

Fenton gathered up all the confidence Gizmoduck gave him as he faltered at Bently's intimidating tone. His head tilted slightly in concentration and the arms came to life. Some moved back in forth across the bottom of the beaker, others held it up, and some stuck to the sides. Instantly the solution came to life in a burst of colors. The liquid solution became divided into different brightly colored sections like a pie chart. One slice emitted a faint violet vapor, another bubbled and spurted its sea of blue. The third director nearly started to clap although a cold stare from Bradford ended what would have been an acknowledgment of success. 

"How exactly have you achieved this, as you have mentioned, the conditions are hard to create?" Bradford interrogated. 

Guided by GIzmoduck's confidence and his own excitement at explaining scientific concepts Fenton explained "The arms create a fine environment of a system of pressures within the beaker, dividing the solution into several groups. These groups, in turn, are heated at different temperatures and are given unique internal pressures. The crystals react differently to these conditions as they dissolve in the liquid. By simply having read the procedure Gizmoduck reads the memory of the wearer and creates the conditions required for the experiment." 

Bently slid the documents he had held so proudly before off to the side with one finger, and never took his eyes off Fenton except for a succession of quick passing glances at the rest of the board. "In a surprise turn of events you've convinced the Board to allow funding to resume for the Gizmoduck Project. You will receive assignments on a regular basis. Bently said. "You are now excused," he added coldly. Fenton popped out of Gizmoduck and the suit folded back into a thin box that he placed into the suitcase. He walked as if on eggshells as he left the conference room, a minor fear existed that maybe the Board would revoke their sudden change of heart. When the doors closed Fenton leaped into the air and shouted. His exclamation of joy echoed down the empty hallways. 

***** 

Launchpad leaned back in woven grass chair, his posture nonchalant. His mind replayed his careful scripted version of the date. A few jokes and a conversation and Launchpad would make the big reveal. Although, he would like it not to be treated as so by Fenton, or anyone for that matter. 

The Enchanted Tiki Bar hadn't been their first option for a date but they wanted to escape the occasionally suffocating sophistication of many restaurants. They scrolled randomly through Google Maps and ended up landing here. They figured it wouldn't hurt to try and it would be fun to try something out of the box. The ever looping "Ukelele Dreams" backing track sung by some animatronic Tikis seemed to push Launchpad in the direction that they might have been a bit too ambitious. While initially amusing, the novelty quickly wore down. The ambient rainforests sounds and realistic foliage were nice touches appreciated by Launchpad, however. 

They soothed Launchpad as his thoughts overflowed with his current dilemma as well as the notion that Fenton could lose his job. He would love to see Fenton's face as he walked in, glowing with excitement and success as he took a seat with him. Launchpad's eyes continued to look towards the door at repetitive intervals, unconsciously synchronized with the music. He was late, Launchpad hoped it wasn't a sign that he had returned home in a depressed stupor after losing his job. Launchpad checked his phone for any messages or missed calls, There was nothing. His finger hovered over the call button but he stopped. Maybe the meeting had become drawn out and he was just going to interrupt it, likely ruining Fenton's chances with the strict and traditional Board of Directors.

The bells on the door jingled. Fenton walked in. Launchpad waved him over as he looked over his face for some sign of the outcome. Fenton's facial expression was undiscernable. "Hey, how did it go?" Launchpad asked as they hugged each other in a warm embrace. 

"It's a little more annoying than expected" Fenton laughed as he playfully ignored Launchpad's question. 

"Come on, Fenton" Launchpad begged. 

With a smile, Fenton told him " I got it. They've decided to fund Gizmoduck!" 

Launchpad flew into action and was already to Fenton before he finished the end of his answer. He lifted his( boyfriend) and swung him around in his arms. "I'm so proud of you!" he exclaimed. Once he put Fenton down the two of them sat down back at the table. Launchpad picked up a fallen pepper mill that had fallen in his excitement. 

"Yeah, I called my mother right after I got out. I was going to tell you but I wanted to keep it a surprise." Fenton said. Launchpad looked touched by this action. "You know my mom, the call went on for a while and that explains why I'm late. She was just so happy for me she wanted to keep on talking. I love her. She would've gone on quite a bit longer but as soon as I told her about our date she was just as eager to hang up and have me get here as she was to talk." 

Launchpad was enthralled and sat attentively. "How was the meeting?" he asked. 

"It was terrifying. They had the papers all lined up to fire me. They would've done it if I didn't go on with my little backup plan. The one I told you about." Fenton said slyly. 

"No way. You really did it? We both thought it would be risky, pulling out Gizmoduck in the boardroom. That's pretty tight." Launchpad said. Fenton continued to explain what had happened at the meeting. He went into what would have been too much detail about the exact nature of the experiment except Launchpad enjoyed hearing the procedure. "Still it must have been pretty intimidating without having Mr. McDee there. I don't think I would have gotten past my job interview if he wasn't there. He's such a great guy." 

"I've noticed you're really fond of Scrooge, can I ask why?" Fenton said. 

Launchpad shrugged. "There's not much too it. He's been supportive of me since the beginning, he can be a bit stingy but that doesn't stop him from making a difference in the lives of those who need it most." He paused and then burst into speech. "Did you ever happen to read that archaeological column he wrote that ended up becoming LGBT themed? Readers were calling him "Scrooge the Archaeological Ally"." 

"Do I? Those were my favorite part of reading that magazine. I used to clip them out and paste them into composition books. I think Ma still has them tucked away somewhere in some boxes. Maybe we can check them out later." Fenton said.

"Yeah, that would be really fun," Launchpad said. "So, when do you start working? They said you'll get assignments on a regular basis but he never gave you a start date." 

"You're right!" Fenton said. His eyes widened in terror at having to call the Money Bin and explain his inadequacy at knowing the basics of his job. It would likely lead to it being traced up to the Board and a stern talking too. " I don't want to call back, even though I know I should," Fenton said, unsure of what to do. Launchpad nodded in solidarity of fearing the Board.  

"Let's just enjoy this date and then after you can call back. I'm sure a little fun will calm your nerves." Launchpad suggested. 

"That's not a bad idea," Fenton said relaxed. His shoulders and body unclenched from a hidden grasp. "This place is busier than I would have imagined," Fenton said taking note of the filled tables. "Our waiter hasn't arrived yet, right?"

Launchpad shook his head. "Nope, and you're not too late either. Google didn't say it was particularly busy during this time too. But staying positive, it'll give you more time to relax." 

As soon as he finished their waiter arrived. They introduced themselves and simply placed down menus and a vase of breadsticks. After, they left and returned to the kitchen. 

Launchpad picked at the menu's corner where the lamination had begun to peel. Over the top of the menu, he saw Fenton inquisitively looking at the menu. A smile adorned his face. A pit sank in Launchpad's stomach. Fenton was finally relaxed and Launchpad could spoil it all with a single question. He took a deep breath and put the menu down. "Fenton, there's something I've got to tell you," he said or thought he said. The words were heard clearly by Launchpad but Fenton stayed fixated on the menu. No sounds had actually escaped his beak.  

Fenton noticed a surprised expression on Launchpad. "Is everything alright?" he asked 

Launchpad repeated, physically this time, "There's something I've got to tell you." 

Fenton looked directly at him indirectly asking him to continue. 

Launchpad opened his mouth to speak but as soon as he did so, Fenton's phone rang. 

"Blathering Blatherskite! The Beagle Boys are committing a large-scale burglary at Duckberg Bank. I guess my assignments start now. I've got to go. Sorry I've got to go." Fenton blurted. "What did you have to say to me?" he asked quickly before he walked away from the table. 

"Uh, I was just going to ask you what you were planning on ordering." Launchpad stuttered out. 

"Oh, okay. I'll call you later." Fenton shouted halfway out the door.  

Launchpad slouched disappointed in himself. He had the chance handed to him on a silver platter. All he had to say was "I'm polyamorous". Several tables and booths had their parties turn around to look at Launchpad. It turned out he had said it aloud.

One table cheered and someone said "Good for you man!" , although Launchpad couldn't tell if it was a genuine remark or the remarkably strong alcohol served here. Launchpad left a tip and walked out of the restaurant, a few breadsticks stuffed into his inner pockets. Outside the restaurant, Launchpad received his own call to his job. Scrooge needed him for an impromptu errand just beyond the coasts of Duckberg. 

***** 

"I should have told him," Launchpad muttered as he piloted the Sunchaser. "He even asked me what I was going to say. Why can't I just tell him?" Scrooge looked over, intrigued. "You're a righteous dude Mr. McDee. What should I do if I can't bring myself to say what I need to?"

Scrooge made a face, unsure of what to do. "You've just got to say what you need to say, be direct and think of nothing else, I think. I'm not exactly sure what you're talking about," he said confused. 

"I'm talking about relationships, Mr. McDee. I'm usually so honest and open, often unintentionally, like that time I told the entire graduating class about that incident at Jason's bar mitzvah. You see what happened was-" Launchpad said before he was cut off.

"Let's not get off track now Launchpad," Scrooge said, being sure he would not want to hear the details of the bar mitzvah incident. 

"You can see how easy it is for me now. The problem is, I can't be that honest and open with Fenton about this one thing in particular. A part of who I am that's integral to our relationship that he understands." Launchpad confessed. 

"Well, what is it exactly?" Scrooge asked. 

"I'm, I'm polyamorous, Mr. McDee," Launchpad said. 

"You were able to tell me. It can't be much harder than telling your boss." Scrooge said. 

"You would think but I've been able to tell Ms. Beakley, the GSA, and an entire restaurant. Yet I still can't get it out when he's there. We've been together for nearly a month and he could feel betrayed I've kept it from him for so long. And that's if he doesn't flat-out reject me." Launchpad moaned. 

"There's no need to spiral lad. If we're thinking of the same Fenton then he's a fan of my old columns. He even asked me to sign quite a lot of memorabilia when we first met." Scrooge said. 

"We were just talking about that at lunch!" Launchpad beamed, there was a new freshness to his tone. 

"Well, seeing as how you're a fan too you know how much it talks about the various types of romantic structures in ancient societies. I see no reason why he wouldn't accept you for who you are. But you should do it soon. I think you know that's not healthy to keep things bundled up within yourself like that." Scrooge said matter of factly. 

"You're right, Mr. McDee. Thanks." Launchpad said. Suddenly he jerked the wheel of the plane to the left and turned it around. 

"What are you doing?" yelled Scrooge. 

"I'm going to go tell Fenton-oh wait. We've got that thing we've got to do." Launchpad said as he slapped his head. He turned the plane back around. "Sorry about that Mr. McDee. Why exactly are we heading out to the middle of the ocean, in a plane?" 

"I'm here to pick up some special steel, from the island of Avalon. Long thought to be forgotten the island actually floats along the surface of the ocean. If my calculations are correct, it should be just a little off the coast of Duckberg today." Scrooge said with pride. 

Launchpad didn't bother to question why exactly Scrooge would want the steel. Instead, his mind swirled with the excitement at finally having the confidence to tell Fenton the truth. A news notification popped up on his phone. He had set up a news alert for the keyword 'Gizmoduck'. Launchpad flipped on auto-pilot, not that it functioned, and read that Gizmoduck had successfully stopped the ongoing Beagle Boy's burglary. The already existing smile on Launchpad spread farther across his face. The picture showed a Gizmoduck with an equally joyful smile.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Week:  
> Home for the Holidays-Part 1-Fenton and Launchpad try to celebrate their one month anniversary before Launchpad has to return home to Hanukkah.


	8. Home for the Holidays-Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenton and Launchpad attempt to celebrate their one month anniversary before Launchpad has to return home for Hanukkah.

Snowflakes fell gracefully onto the window of Launchpad's carelessly parked limo outside of Scrooge's Money Bin. Launchpad stood waiting in the lobby, his feet tapped impatiently. Scrooge would've been delighted to have known he had arrived early but he wasn't there to pick up Scrooge. His eyes darted around the room. The secretary at the front desk looked up from her novel. Not many at the Money BIn were of the talkative type, and Chelsea Turaco had grown quite accustomed to the solidarity of her job although, like many, she had grown a soft spot within her rigid introversion for Launchpad. Many employees did secretly place Launchpad as their favorite patron, he always happened to be cheerful and had been known to brighten anyone's day. For those less emotionally driven, he was also popular for being a large tipper. 

Chelsea lowered her book. "Launchpad, what's the tea? How's it going with you and Fenton? Have you gotten around to telling him yet? 

"We're doing a little something for our one month anniversary. I have to head home for Hanukkah with my parents," Launchpad said. His tone turned somber "I haven't told him." 

"It's been a month and you still haven't told him! I know it's up to you when you come out to him but you're sort of obligated to be upfront about it," she said 

"I know, I know, but it's been so difficult to just sit down and say it. We've both been so busy. Him with Gizmoduck and I've been having to take Scrooge around a lot more lately. There hasn't been an ideal time to bring it up. I tried to tell him a few days ago but since then there hasn't been too much time to talk." 

"That's the thing. There's never going to be an 'ideal time'. We all have busy lives. There's always something popping up." She paused. "Here's a plan, you're going on a date for the anniversary, right?" She said, noting the excited taps of his shoes. "So let's make it an official promise to yourself and, I'm assuming the others you've told instead of Fenton, that tonight you'll tell him. Soon after, you'll leave to the airport for your parents' place, that little town outside of St. Canard, and then he'll have the time to stew over what you said. By the time you get back to Duckburg, he'll have gotten it." 

'It seems so simple when you say it. He's read about polyamory before but that's quite different from being told you're going to have to live with it." Launchpad said. He took a breath heavily "But you're right, I have to tell him. I've made a promise and now I've got to keep it. Thanks, Chelsea." 

"No problem" 

Fenton stepped out of the elevator. Launchpad gasped and his outward mood shifted dramatically to exuberant joy. Within seconds, Launchpad had run up to him and had his hand wrapped around one of Fenton's. "Come on let's go" he yelled as he pulled Fenton towards the door. Suddenly he stopped. "Wait, you've got to see this," he said with glee. He unzipped his leather jacket but still held it closed. With a comedic and exciting flair, he pulled it open. "Hanukkah Sweater" he shouted. A golden menorah covered the torso and chest and behind it a bright blue background. 

"That's so cool!" Fenton said as he reached out and felt the sweater. "It's soft too." 

"I know. I wear it constantly when I'm at home this time of year, and sometimes earlier. It's so cozy. My Father made it for me a few years back. Usually, he's not that much into colorful and crafty things but he got into knitting when they adopted me and he hasn't stopped since. My Dad has gotten quite a lot of scarves from him over the years. He has them all laid out in his closet, it's really sweet." He added, almost as an afterthought "Are you ready to go?" 

"Yeah, let's go," Fenton said as he adjusted his own scarf with his one free hand before he was yanked out the door.  "Bye you two, Have fun!" Chelsea shouted after them. Once she knew they had left, she playfully muttered "Dorks" 

***** 

"You never really bring up your parents. They seem really nice though. I'm hoping we can meet soon." Fenton hinted. "After all, you've already met my mother," Fenton said as he buckled into the car. "Wait, why are we taking Scrooge's limo?" 

"We're not. I just have to drop it off back at the mansion and then we've got to take an Uber. I'll be heading home to see my dads for Hanukkah. And to be honest, I'm not sure about you meeting them yet. They get a little... intrusive to say the least when I talk about my relationships." 

"So does my mom. She's talked to you plenty of times about us, and at some pretty awkward times might I add." Fenton responded. 

"Yeah but that's sort of cute. My dads get _real_ personal fast. Then they try picking apart my sexuality. They're not really fond of the concept of being attracted to more than one gender. I try to avoid bringing up my romantic experiences near them. They tend to ask anyways and complain when they hear it. I just want to skirt by and enjoy the holidays with them." 

"I understand," Fenton said, feeling a bit awkward he had pressured Launchpad. He checked his phone for the screenshotted tickets. The Duckberg Aquarium had discontinued their usage of paper tickets and had gone completely digital. Fenton knew there were copies in an email as well as in his photos but he wanted a distraction. At McDuck Mansion, Launchpad dropped off the limo while Fenton ordered an Uber.  

As Launchpad locked the limo and prepared to leave the garage he spotted Ms. Beakley. Her face curved in inquiry and she held a thumbs up. As she was wearing headphones, Launchpad shook his head and gave a thumbs down. He followed it with a tap of the wrist and then opened and closed his hand to motion speaking. She nodded and they both continued on.  

"The Uber should be arriving in a few minutes. We'll have to meet them outside the front gate. Together they walked through the mansion's gardens. Fenton walked hastily through the pathways while Launchpad took a more calm approach, he took the time to admire the hardier blooms that could thrive in the cold temperatures and sharp snow.  

"Oh Fenton, look at these," Launchpad said, pointing at a powdered bush of pink camellias. Fenton turned towards Launchpad as he twisted a bloom off the stem with a graceful quickness. He tucked it into the feathers on Fenton's head. Fenton took out his phone to view it and also take a quick picture. He went in for a hug, being careful not to crush it in the embrace.  

The Uber pulled up just as they arrived at the front gate. A middle-aged dog was their driver. "Hello boys" she shouted over her radio, which blasted Christmas songs. "There's some taffy in the cupholders behind the phone chargers," she added, equally loud. They couldn't help but smile at her offer and kind demeanor. They approached Duckberg piers, where the skies grew grey and swirled with dark clouds. Occasionally, a snowflake would splat against the window and fall down in a drop of water. "It looks like it's going to snow today." she possibly yelled, the radio now played a modern cover with heavy bass that had masked a clear interpretation of what she said. They arrived at the aquarium. She offered them a plate of cookies, the origin of which was unknown, as they left the car. The driver had a high rating so they assumed the cookies to be unlaced and took some. 

Fenton's excitement grew as they neared the aquarium doors. "I'm so excited." he squeaked. 

"Me too. I think the last time I went to an aquarium was when I was in one." Launchpad said, which was followed by a concerned look from Fenton. "We can talk about it later" 

***** 

Duckberg Aquarium offered only a marginal difference to the quickly dropping temperature outside. The ever-present chill had done its job to keep most patrons from strolling the halls. Aside from the sources of a few echoing footsteps from around the corner, Launchpad and Fenton were among the few who had dared venture out that evening. 

"Isn't it beautiful, the dimmed lights, the fish, the water, you?" Fenton said. 

Wait, what did you say?" Launchpad asked, seemingly in a genuine state of confusion. Fenton waited to see if Launchpad would recall it before he repeated his flirting. Before he could wait any longer, Launchpad continued. "Did you ask if you're beautiful? Because I believe the answer is yes." They held each other's hands firmly. Fenton took the lead, the aquarium's map on his phone. They would stare in awe of the creatures as they swirled in complex formations twenty feet above their heads. Often Launchpad would step back and also look at Fenton in admiration, to see his eyes reflect the calming shades of blue of the water, to see the fish dart around the pupils of his eyes. Like a child, Fenton would point in silent excitement around the tanks. They encountered a tank with a low circular viewing window. They sat on one end. Fenton curled up into Launchpad's arms and they sat and watched sea jellies glide clumsily around what appeared to be an infinite abyss. The lighting in the tank was rigged to dim its lights on intervals, which allowed the jellies to show off their bioluminescent spots and dashes. Their eyelids grew heavy as they watched the glowing masses flutter in the darkness. Soon, they fell asleep. 

***** 

They awoke to the sound of the intercom announcing the closing of the aquarium.  They smiled at each other and got up. Groggily, they readjusted their outer layers and prepped to enter the frigid weather outside. Snow had begun to fall and Fenton tightened his scarf stronger around his neck. "Let's go check out someplace warm," he suggested. "There's a little indoor market down the street over there." 

"Alright, I'm down," Launchpad chirped. "We should probably look around for something to eat at the same time. I'm getting a little hungry."  

Unlike the aquarium, the marketplace was flooded with people and naked light bulbs hung overhead, casting a golden glow across the stalls and booths. Their hands grasped each other to avoid losing each other in the crowd. After they examined some trinkets and watched a few street performances they noticed a food stall with a small, but quickly growing line. They scurried to grab a place before they ended up too far from getting food in a reasonable time. The stall sold Chinese food. 

Once they received their food they hurried to find a table as with every glance a once open spot would become filled. "I see one over there" Launchpad alerted to Fenton. It wasn't really a table or a seat but a now empty flowerbed. They sat on the rim and ate their food. "So what are your plans for when I'm gone. December starts tomorrow so I guess you've got some Christmas planning to do." Launchpad asked 

"Well, who knows how much I'll be called in for Gizmoduck- I'll be sure to send pictures when I am. I've got to go Christmas shopping with my Mom for the cousins, but that's later this month." He paused. "I think I'll actually have a little time to myself. I could read a book or tinker a bit. I will wish you, Launchpad. Dating you has been really lovely." 

"I'll think of you while I celebrate. You'll be there in spirit, sort of. Maybe next year, you can come and join us." Launchpad said, his heart skipped a beat. Maybe this wouldn't last until next year. He swept the thought from his mind as he gathered a cluster of noodles between the chopsticks, steam wafered up into the air. He thought about telling Fenton here, but there were too many people, and the atmosphere felt rushed. Fenton had already finished his food and while Launchpad was near completion as well he still felt the need to do so quickly. He scooped the remaining clumps of vegetables and a sole noodle into his mouth. 

"So, what do you want to do now. We have a little time before you've got to get to the airport." Fenton asked as he tossed the containers in the garbage and recycling bins. 

"I saw a little park on our way here, I don't think there are too many people there. Maybe we can be alone for a bit?" Launchpad suggested. 

***** 

They were indeed alone in the park and sat on a bench. The winds blew the bare branches of the trees in a peaceful sway. Launchpad turned his head toward Fenton, a dark silhouette backed by the glittering neon lights of the surrounding stores along the edge of the park."Can I kiss you?" Launchpad asked softly, snowflakes had fallen into his downy feathers and twirled gracefully as they landed. 

Fenton grew flustered beneath his scarf. "Yes," he whispered at a volume that would have been impossible to hear had they not been alone. Launchpad lowered his head to Fenton and their beaks met. The snowflakes around them seemed to slow down their frantic dance, they now hung suspended midair. The flickering of the neon lights ceased. Their buzz shifted into a constant ambient noise buried beneath the sensation of the passionate kiss. Fenton pulled Launchpad closer to him. A warmth overcame Launchpad he hadn't felt in some time. The snow around his blurred into a smeared levitating mass of powder. The surrounding sounds were picked up more keenly and sharply. The faint rustle of leaves, the creak of the bench, and the purr of distant traffic. In the swirl of senses, the spark of the kiss prevailed against others to Launchpad. 

They slowly slid apart. Fenton adjusted himself on the bench and leaned on Launchpad's shoulder. A silence laid before them. Neither of them wanted to break apart the newfound comfort and connection of their experience. Together they stared at the streetlight ahead, adjourned with green and red tinsel and golden bells. The snow became caught in the tinsel's fibers. The smallest of details felt infinitely large and noticeable. A small blip of sound burst the illusion of the seemingly endless moment. It was Launchpad's phone. 

"We've got to get going, my plane leaves in an hour," Launchpad said as he leapt up from the bench. 

"Wait, why aren't you taking the _Sunchaser_? Plane tickets aren't exactly cheap" Fenton noted. 

"Funny thing is, I'm temporarily banned from personally taking off at the Duckberg National Airport. My last landing wasn't all too graceful. They need some time for repairs. Not to mention, my parents have this thing where they feel like they're obligated to pay for my travel fares home. I keep on telling them they don't have to but here we are. A somewhat generous billionaire's personal driver with travel fares paid by his parents" Launchpad said with a mock laugh.  

He felt time's influence again. The rose-scented, or rather camellia scented, dream of the kiss faded and reality surged back onto Launchpad's train of thought. Promises had been made, for his own good and the relief of others. He had to tell Fenton tonight. The padded thuds from the high of the kiss became violent. His heart rattled against his chest. 

They strolled briskly to the Uber. The snow had stopped. Their driver drove toward the airport.

"I find it a little funny the airport banned you from flying there but didn't ban you from _flying_ there," Fenton said, making a lame attempt to gauge  Launchpad's mood as he had felt a sudden shift from the love-drunk version of his typical happy-go-lucky disposition. 

"Uh, yeah. I guess it is." Launchpad chuckled nervously. 

Fenton's attention snapped towards Launchpad. Something was wrong. "Launchpad, is everything alright? Are you okay? he asked, the concern present in his tone.

Launchpad tried to hold out the time until he had to give an answer. The one-stoplight right in front of the airport switched to red. He took a soothing breath. "Fenton, I'm polyamorous" The expected rush of relief was not felt. He saw Fenton's face contort to an expression of hurt like a window had shattered, its shards littered on the ground. The light changed to green, and the cars behind them honked, the driver too had become embroiled in Fenton's response. Launchpad stared at Fenton, he looked for a sign Fenton wasn't upset, that what he had said was okay. "Fenton?" he whimpered. The driver continued on, barely having reached the end of the light. 

Fenton removed the camellia from his head and twisted its stem in anxious movements between his fingers. "I don't know what to say. It has been a month and you didn't tell me. You took me out on this wonderful date to one of my favorite places, and then kissed me! Launchpad, I love you but what's happening here? Am I not the only person you're seeing?" 

"No, no but it wouldn't be like that if it was. I would've talked to you about it. That's not how it works" Launchpad said as he struggled to alleviate some of the preconceptions.

Fenton realized the hurt he had inflicted on Launchpad just as they pulled up to the airport drop-off. "Launchpad, I-I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry. Don't worry about what I said, just-just give me some time to get used to this whole idea." 

Launchpad's heart tore in two. He was devastated as he nodded silently, exiting the car. The car nearly drove off but he chased after to stop it. He rapped his knuckles against the back window. It rolled down. "I love you too Fenton" 

They kissed again, much shorter than before. The car drove off and Launchpad headed toward his gate.

Snowflakes swirled in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay!
> 
> TOMORROW:  
> Home for the Holidays-Part 2: An old ex comes back to haunt Launchpad for the holidays.


	9. Home for the Holidays-Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old ex comes back to haunt Launchpad for the holidays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Handy Guide to the Mcquack Dads:  
> * Ripcord McQuack [Father]  
> * Barry "Birdie" (né Michaels ) McQuack [Dad] 
> 
> Sorry about the delay, had some holiday events and have been feeling slightly under the weather.

Launchpad stepped past the airport gates to the view of Ripcord and Barry McQuack waving enthusiastically. Ripcord looked around for his son while Barry held a sign for Launchpad. Although he didn't seem to put much energy into displaying the sign, Barry still held a grin in joyful anticipation for his son. Every so often he would place the welcome sign down momentarily to adjust his knitted scarf gifted from his husband. This scarf, in particular, had bright red hearts trailing across a mustard yellow. It paired nicely with his navy blue business casual attire. Ripcord's own outfit was instantly recognizable as the inspirations for Launchpad's daily style, without his signature leather jacket. Launchpad ran up to them and gave them a hug. 

"Dad, Father! I've missed you!" he said between the two of them. 

"We love you, Launch" Ripcord said. "Ready to come back home with your old men?" 

"Father," Launchpad chided playfully. "It's been a while since I've been back. I still feel a bit bad for Thanksgiving, but I guess I couldn't have anticipated having to stay and help fend off a multi-headed Turkey beast."  

"That's a story I would like to hear. Let's get to the car. I'm not really a fan of being in the midst of these crowds." Barry replied. 

***** 

"I can't eat another bite, what about you babe?" Ripcord said exhausted. Barry couldn't reply. He had pulled another sufganiyah from the plate on the table and placed it into his mouth. Ripcord smiled and asked Launchpad if he was still hungry. He too had taken another dough ball and was in the act of eating it. Ripcord gave a hearty laugh. "I guess I'm the only one" 

"Buddy, are you enjoying your Hanukkah? You sounded so excited when you were texting us." Barry asked 

"Of course. I'm so thankful that I get to spend it with you two. Work can get a little heavy at times and it's not always possible to get over here. And you two know Hanukkah's one of my favorite holidays." Launchpad said. 

Barry seemed shocked, although it could've been the powdered sugar obscuring the intricacies of his facial expression. "I'm a little surprised. You tell us all the time about these exciting adventures around the world. You've seen so much of this world, more than I've ever seen. Your Father saw a lot of it too but that was a while back. I have a little trouble imagining you could find excitement here with us, in Swann's Way. We're not even a registered town, just a rural area outside of St. Canard." He wiped the remaining sugar and jelly from his face.

"Don't say that! You've both given so much to me, and continue to do so. Adventuring wears you down. The real excitement is often found in the spontaneity of family life" Launchpad shot back against his Dad's subtle self-depreciation. 

Barry seemed touched at the remark. "We're so lucky to have you Launchpad" 

Ripcord turned around from his full-bellied nap. "Hey, Launch, who's lucky enough to be dating you now? Maybe you can find some spontaneous down to earth excitement with them. Didn't you think it would be nice for us to meet them? Ripcord said half- asleep and nearly incomprehensible.

Launchpad's mind went into motion. He had been lucky to avoid it for this long. Nearly eight days of pure family fun and he had somehow managed to steer clear of talking about anything that could lead to the topic now at hand. He picked up on a faint difference. The shameless ridicule had become playful, or at least he thought so. Even the pronouns were neutral and the word choice open to multiple individuals. 

Ripcord continued the conversation after he acknowledged the puzzled look on his son's face and its paired silence. "Launch, regardless of how things are going down in your romantic lane, your dad and I wish to talk with you." 

"We've been rude and ignorant towards your obvious attempts to get us to understand your attractions. It's difficult for us to keep up with some of these newly defined terms sometimes. We also understand completely that's not a valid excuse." Barry stated

"And you know what Launch? We should know better. Two married gay Jewish men and we still give you crap for who and how you love? We face hell and we gave a slice of it to you. It just isn't right" 

"Our hope is that you can forgive us for the frequent hurt we caused in your life." 

"Of course, I can- and I do. It means a lot to me that you're doing this." Launchpad exclaimed.

"Your father and I made this for you," Barry said as he took out a brown paper package tied with hemp string. No box had been used and one could easily tell its contents were soft and likely of the clothing variety. Launchpad carefully untied the know of the string and pulled back the folds of the paper. Launchpad gasped. Ripcord and Barry smiled faintly. He barely took a second to bring his parents into a tight embrace followed by tears. 

Folded up neatly into a square was a pansexual Pride flag. "See this as an official acknowledgment that we're here for you son, all the way." 

"Keep on going, open it up" Barry added with the excitement of a new parent seeing their child open a gift for the first time. Launchpad unclasped from the hug and unfolded the handcrafted flag. A heart wrapped within an infinity sign emblazed on its center. "Did you make it?" he asked, still in awe.

"Yeah, did I mention that I've gotten into sewing as well? No one ever tells you knitting is a gateway drug to crafting, although you won't find me disappointed." Ripcord said 

"Your Father, as always, made the gift, but we both looked online for the meanings. We wanted to do this right. Ripcord was more of a fan of the pi symbol, I prefer the infinity sign. We compromised." Barry playfully remarked. Launchpad turned the flag over. There was another heart on this side, but instead of being decorated with an infinity sign it had pi instead.

"This is incredible. Thank you so much. I love you." Launchpad said, going in for yet another hug. "I think this has been my favorite Hanukkah. But don't worry,  I know we're all still learning, it's a process. I won't judge" 

"We love you Launchpad. And you don't worry. Barry's already got a list of recommended reading bookmarked." Ripcord said.

"I'll text it to you for review. You do know best." Barry added in. Launchpad just smiled.

***** 

Launchpad awoke the next morning, his bags packed and ready to leave. 

He had the flag tucked into the inner pocket of his jacket, closest to his heart. Ripcord and Barry stood near the door. Barry had his arm around Ripcord's waist. "Ready to go Launchpad?" he asked. 

"Yeah, just let me put my bag in the trunk and we can go-" He stumbled. "Hank!" Before him stood a harrier with grey feathers and a handsome face. His dark silver hair was slicked back with a light application of gel.

He smiled devilishly. "Hello there Launchpad. I heard you were back in town so I decided to come over and see you. Just like old times, eh?"

"Uh, I've got to go to the bathroom. Don't want to have to go at the airport." Launchpad said as he rushed back into the house.

"Wait, you're leaving already?" Hank shouted after him. 

Launchpad shut the bathroom door and began to pace back and forth. "Why is he back here? He shouldn't be here. I don't want him here." he muttered to himself. He wondered how he could get him to leave. Launchpad marched out of the bathroom and out the front door. "Go, get out of here Hank! I don't care why you're here just leave."Launchpad snapped at Hank. Hank looked taken aback. He clutched his pastel orange tennis polo.

Launchpad picked up his bag. "Father. Dad. Let's go" Launchpad said with trembling confidence and refused to break his piercing gaze on Hank.  

Hank picked up on Launchpad's faltering grip. He smiled a chilling grin. "Come on Launchpad, don't you remember me? It's Hank. Hank Montague-Harrier. We met in your Parks and Rec. cooking class. We even dated a little" 

Launchpad glared back with a fiery intensity. "I remember." he spat coldly. With the slightest movement of his neck, Launchpad turned slightly to see if his parents were on their way. Secretly, or perhaps not even that, he felt terrified. The last thing he wanted was to deal with in any way with Hank, especially after all that had happened with Fenton. Other than a "Happy Hanukkah" text, nothing had been said between them. "I have a boyfriend" he added. 

Hank's face darkened. The lynchpin had been removed. Now, Hank could map out Launchpad's fears and take him down. "I'm not here on a romantic endeavor Launchpad. What happened between us is done and gone, a thing of the past. We weren't perfect in that relationship. You overreacted to things SO often. I felt I was walking on eggshells half the time. I had my moments, but you," he shook his head and clicked his tongue, "you were pretty bad. I can imagine why your boyfriend isn't here with you."

Launchpad thought about it. Maybe he hadn't been so great with Hank. Maybe he wasn't being so kind to Fenton. His body language loosened and he left his fight or flight mode. He relaxed his posture, still standing straight, but no longer with the intention of dominance. 

Hank saw his opportunity and took it. "Hey, I've got some work to do in Duckburg. Would you mind if I hitched a ride down to the airport? Maybe we could rekindle just the good parts of our past. Bring a little positivity into our lives, nothing like a fiery reunion can do such a task. " 

"No, I wouldn't mind. Let me ask my parents, I'm sure they wouldn't mind as well." Launchpad said, as if in a daze. 

Hank placed his and Launchpad's bags into the trunk while Launchpad gathered his parents. He leaned against the car and crossed his arms. A sly sniveling grin cracked across his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT WEEK, New Year's Day:  
> We take a small break from our action and take a look at exactly what went down that night in Macaw in the episode "The House of the Lucky Gander" in:
> 
> Chapter 10- A Night in Macaw


	10. A Night in Macaw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This New Year's, we take a step back from our action and take a look at what exactly went down that night in Macaw during the episode "The House of the Lucky Gander"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes the partial lyrics to the song "Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You" written by Bob Crewe and Robert Gaudio.  
> I have no ownership and all rights are reserved to Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

The House of the Lucky Fortune lied straight ahead. _The Sunchaser_ slid effortlessly through the grey clouds sprinkled with the pale glow of the neon signs beneath them. It disrupted the black mirror of the sea as it came in for a landing. Scrooge's great-nephews hustled out of the plane, giddy at the prospect of meeting Gladstone Gander. Donald followed sluggishly behind, only accelerated by the pulls of the children. Scrooge and Launchpad walked out last, with Launchpad locking up the plane.

"We leave for the temple in an hour" Scrooge shouted after the children. He then turned to Launchpad "Launchpad, I won't wait another fifty years to hear that cricket sing"

'Sure thing Mr. McDee. I'm just going to swing over and visit an old girlfriend from these parts. See, she's had some problems with the local crime family." 

"It's fine. Whatever. One hour." Scrooge said, already half-way towards the doors of the casino.

"I'm coming for you Ziyi" Launchpad announced into the darkness. He walked away from the glowing sign of the House of Lucky Fortune. Crowds filled the sidewalks and cars participated in an agonizing orchestra of cacophony. Launchpad ignored this all. He continued down the strip of stores with flashy screens and street performers with complex pyrotechnic components without batting an eye.  Just as he saw the small alleyway he had been looking for, Launchpad noticed a small panda cub crying on the edge of an electric flower bed. "Hey there little one, is everything alright? Are you missing a parent?" Launchpad asked calmly. 

The cub looked up with moistened eyes. "I was with my mom, and," they paused to snivel "and now she's nowhere to be found." 

"I'll wait here with you until your mom comes back, is that okay with you?" Launchpad asked softly. The cub nodded and he carefully took a seat next to them. "What were you doing with your mom when you got separated?" he planned to ask although he was interrupted. A woman walked by and looked anxious. "Ma'am, are you looking for your child?" She too nodded and picked up the cub with tearful eyes. 

"Thank you," she whispered through her reunion hug. 

"Always glad to help, have a nice night you two." He squatted and spoke directly to the cub. "Pay careful attention to your mom, okay," he said playfully. The child giggled and clutched the arm of their mother. Launchpad walked away in the direction of the alleyway. 

As soon as he was out of earshot, the tiny cub tugged on the fabric of his mother's arm. She put him down on the ground and muddled through her purse. She pulled out a phone and handed it to the cub. On his own, he tapped away and held it to his ear. "We found him. He's heading off down into an alleyway. The one by the shopping district. I'll follow him down and find out where she's hiding." they said in a rough voice, one too gruff for a child. 

***** 

Launchpad stepped into the bar, _The Prosperous Koi_ , and strolled up directly to the bartender.  "Do you have any recommended reading?" he asked her. 

She cleaned out a shot glass and told Launchpad; "Why not try picking up _Paradise Regained_ , I heard it was pretty good. Not like I read it or anything.", her tone was as flat as the foam on a long-abandoned drink. Launchpad tipped his hat and walked down a hallway. At a table across the bar, a woman's phone chirped and she typed a message under the table while she kept her eyes locked on Launchpad's path. 

He entered a small room with a wall lined with bookshelves. He selected a trim edition of _Paradise Regained_ and a small click sounded. The wall popped open and Launchpad pulled it forward. The passage opened up to a glistening ballroom with a stage at its head. Tables and chairs had been set up on the dance floor beneath a hot pink plastic-diamond chandelier. A sign in the back announced the space as _The Ping Dragon_. Launchpad took an open seat on a cheetah print chair and checked his watch. He was right on time. 

The pale yellow-gold curtains flew apart in a smooth fluid movement as if a river's waterfall had been separated down the middle. In the center of the stage stood a peafowl. Her iridescent train was held tightly behind her back by a sharp cerulean ribbon. A fan held closed tight. Her body was draped in a glittering gold dress, which sparkled with the slightest movement. Her crest fluttered atop her head. She bats her eyes in the direction of Launchpad. A few in the audience notice and whoop and holler at him. Regardless there are cheers. The backing track began to play. 

 _Pardon the way that I stare_  
_There's nothing else to compare_  
_The sight of you leaves me weak_  
_There are no words left to speak_  
_But if you feel like I feel_  
_Please let me know that is real_  
_You're just too good to be true_  
_I can't take my eyes off you_

As she sang that last line she unfurled the ribbon holding her tail feathers back. With a sassy toss of the ribbon, her trail spread across the stage and wavered in line with the rhythm of the words. The crowd erupted in gasps and rapturous applause. The music swelled and she twirled her body across the stage.

 

_I need you baby_  
_And if it's quite all right_  
_I need you baby_  
_To warm the lonely nights_  
_I love you baby_  
_Trust in me when I say okay_  

_Oh pretty baby_  
_Don't let me down I pray_  
_Oh pretty baby_  
_Now that I've found you stay_  
_And let me love you, oh baby_  
_Let me love you_

The song shifted into an instrumental break. She danced a little but soon stopped. She pointed across the room at Launchpad. A spotlight glided along the path of her finger to him. He put his arms up in false defeat and approached the stage. Launchpad climbed up and she handed him the microphone. He sang;

 _You're just too good to be true_  
_I can't take my eyes off you_  
_You'd be like heaven to touch_  
_I wanna hold you so much_  
_At long last love has arrived_  
_And I thank God I'm alive_  
_You're just too good to be true_  
_Can't take my eyes off of you_

A stagehand snuck behind the peafowl's trail and handed her another microphone. Together they finished the song. As the music faded, the stage elevator descended beneath the stage as she folded her trail back up. "How are you doing, old friend?" Ziyi asked, already in the middle of replacing her heels for more sensible shoes.

"Well seeing as how you're in enough trouble with the Qi Shi Huang crime family to call me back I'm not doing too hot. I'm worried about you." Launchpad replied. 

"It's a good thing I was missing you anyways, hits two birds with one stone. Eh, scratch that last bit, poor word choice for the current situation. But really, come on. How are things going over in America? Who's currently flying with Launchpad McQuack if you catch my drift?" Ziyi inquired while she led Launchpad up a set of stairs that went up to backstage. "We're heading up there" she added and pointed up at another set of stairs leading to an upper level above the stage and backstage area.  

"Oh. There's this guy named Hank. His dad owns this country club, Eagltonia Heights, and you would think he would be an entitled frat boy but, but... that's exactly what he is. He does this thing where he-" Launchpad stopped dead in his tracks. Two incredibly buff roosters stood before them. One cracked their knuckles. The other flexed their arm, causing a skull and crossbones tattoo to chatter its teeth. Ziyi snatched a nearby hatstand and swung it towards them. They stepped back in alarm and allowed Launchpad and Ziyi to dart up the stairs. Launchpad slid a worn-out box of costumes to the head of the stairs and kicked it down. The roosters toppled over.

Ziyi was at a suspended railing next to a large window."Launchpad, I'm going to need you to grab onto those wires holding up this railing. Try to get them to swing towards the window." 

"Okay," Launchpad grabbed hold of them and used his weight to tip the platform into a swing. Ziyi joined him and poised herself in preparation to open it once reached. The two roosters had recovered and were quickly on the approach towards reaching them. With one last burst the platform swung towards the window, but at too fast of a speed. Launchpad covered Ziyi under his arms and jacket and cowered his head and neck as deep as he could. The wires snapped and the platform sailed through the window. The ground outside sloped and the platform slid down the hill with a flurry of sparks.

Not even a second later, Ziyi was up on her feet. "Hurry, over here." She directed him over to a candy shop. Launchpad raised an eyebrow in suspicion. Ziyi rolled her eyes. "There's not really time to explain, but Claire has got me covered."  Inside the shop, a calm and collected duck stood at the front counter in the midst of a boisterous sea of patrons. As soon as her eyes met Ziyi's she let out a sharp piercing whistle and the crowd dispersed. The last customer left and Claire trailed behind them. She closed the blinds with a quick flick of her wrist. She then walked back behind the counter and pulled out a trenchcoat with a matching hat and a dart gun. "Where's the other one?" Ziyi asked.

"You're not the only one dealing with the mafia Ziyi, and I only have so many dart guns," Claire said annoyed at the question. 

"Alright, do you have anything else then?" Claire gave her a look telling her she didn't, obviously. "Okay, we'll have to make do," Ziyi said as she picked at the sole of her shoe. She paused and shoved the dart gun into Launchpad's arms. She fished out a dagger from the shoe. "Let's head out. Claire, we're using the back door." Claire mumbled something resembling an "okay" and they left the store. "So, Launchpad what were you saying about this 'Hank' ?" Ziyi casually asked. The trenchcoat was already around her and the hat dipped over her head. Her face now draped in shadows. 

"Hey, why don't I have a disguise?" Launchpad asked.

Ziyi scowled at the dodging of her question. "You weren't recognized by anyone, right? So then you should be good to go." Together they crossed the street. 

"The Wax Museum looks busy, maybe we'll be safe in there," Launchpad suggested. 

"You're right, but we've got to get the weapons past security," Ziyi said, already in thought about a solution. There was a collective gasp. "Okay, you first," she said, with the excitement that their current situation was a game. 

"We dress up and pretend to be wax figures being delivered to the museum," Launchpad said. 

Ziyi's eyes widened. "I had the same idea!" 

"Really?" 

"Nope, I was thinking we could just throw them over the fence into an open window, but yours is marginally better. But we have to make sure they're actually making a delivery." Ziyi shrugged. 

They crept to the back of the multi-floored tower. To their luck, on this one night in particular, a truck was pulled up in the back. Two delivery persons were carrying figures into a back room. They crawled to the back of the truck. Launchpad disrobed a Warring States warrior's armor. He also plucked an eye-patch off a pirate figure. He held it up to Ziyi and she smiled with a thumbs-up. He slipped the dart gun into the armor's back basket. Ziyi found a rice farmer's outfit. She didn't find it ideal, but now wasn't the time to play dress-up with the geisha. A quick escape might be required. They tucked the bare figures behind a few other boxes and placed themselves on the stands. A tarp covered them and they stood still. A few minutes later they felt their stands being lifted into the air and into the museum. 

Once the conversation of the delivery persons grew silent they threw off the tarps. Launchpad walked over to a backlit map on the wall. The Ancient Chinese history display room is up this hallway and two doors down. "What's the plan, Launchpad? I mean, long-term wise." Ziyi said from behind solemnly. "Do we keep on running?" 

Launchpad turned toward her. "I was thinking you could come back with me to America. You could start your transition safely. We could maybe be together." 

Ziyi shrunk her figure. "I wish that was possible. I couldn't make it, they would send me back, and once they did-the Qi Shi Huang family would be on to me. And don't you have Hank?" 

"You know that's not a restriction" Launchpad added softly. 

"That's not what I meant. Something's up between you and him. You didn't sound okay earlier talking to him." Ziyi said. 

Launchpad breathed deeply. "The thing he does is tell me the truth. He tells me all the time how terrible I am to him, how I don't treat him right. He yells at me, but I know it's justified. Ziyi, you know what I'm talking about, you know I'm not too bright. I feel so bad everytime but he certainly knows what he's talking about, he went to Harvard." 

Ziyi grew enraged. "Launchpad, what the hell are you talking about? He's yelling at you because you're not treating him right? And Harvard, like is it hard to get in? His dad probably paid for it. He's got no right!" she fumed. 

"I cook for him a lot and the recipes don't always turn out right, I even know that so, of course, he yells then. Plus I'm Launchpad McQuack, "crash' is my middle name." 

Ziyi's eyes burned with a fiery intensity, " You have such a large heart Launchpad. Don't let someone in who's going to break it. He's abusing you." 

"It's difficult to show you with the armor but I don't have any bruises. Hank wouldn't do that."  

"That's exactly what he's doing. Abuse isn't always physical, sometimes, it's emotional" 

Launchpad's chest heaved, he slowly collapsed and took a seat on the stand. He whimpered and curled into a ball. Ziyi rushed over to his side and placed her arms around his huddled mass. " I'm so... sad" Launchpad moaned as he struggled to piece his thoughts together into words. 

They sat together in consolidation for a moment, then Ziyi reached beneath her costume and winched. She handed Launchpad a feather from her trail. "You're going to make it back home, tell him to get the hell out of your life, and then burn this damned feather for me. We can both help each other through our problems, no matter how far the distance." 

Launchpad wept softly a little longer and as he approached an improved state they heard voices. They jumped onto their stands and posed. 

The delivery persons arrived with a cart full of more figures, far more than what had been in the delivery truck. "That's the last of them. Let's get back to HQ, I'm tired and these figures got heavier." There was the screech of a closing metal shutter and the purr of an engine starting.  

A minor movement flashed from under one of the covered figures. Ziyi and Launchpad looked at each other without moving anything but their eyes. Another tarp rustled. They gave one last glance and began their descent from the stands and tried to leave the room as quietly as possible. At the door, there was a sound of canvas falling to the floor. "Leaving Ziyi?" a voice said. 

They didn't bother to stop and ran down the hall towards the Ancient China display room. They rushed through the employee door. The crowd didn't take notice of the costumed characters walking freely from their displays. "Turns out my idea wasn't all that original" Launchpad joked. 

Ziyi looked concern. She was far from comfortable at his all too easy shift to his happy-go-lucky mood. Across the room, Launchpad noticed the panda cub from earlier. They noticed Launchpad and pointed in his direction. He was directing the two roosters from _The Ping Dragon_ at them. The employee door behind them burst open. An arrow flew from it. The crowd burst into chaos and screams echoed off the museum walls. Tourists and visitors to the museum struggled to reach the exit. Arrows continued to fly from the door, not into the crowd but rather higher up on the walls, far from harming anyone. Launchpad and Ziyi tried to join the crowds in their escape but they were taken into the grasps of the roosters, their arms pinned to the sides. The room emptied. A series of Warring States warriors, wearing Launchpad's costume although their's were outfitted with bows, filed through the door. A shadow stood on the dim-lit side of the backdoor. Something glistened on his shadow. Two of the warriors shot arrows and cracked the lens of security cameras. A crane slowly slipped through the door. The tip of his beak was metal, and its end sharpened to a deadly point. His age was obvious to anyone who viewed him, although they would be equally foolish to doubt he wasn't fatal. 

"Ziyi, we've finally caught up with each other. I was hoping it would be under different circumstances, like perhaps one where you had surrendered instead of leading us on this wild, but admittedly fun, chase. Regardless, your time is up, you must pay for what you've done." he said.  

Ziyi struggled against the restraint of the rooster. "You deserved it, what you were doing to them. I had to do something you disgusting monster!" she cried, her eyes moist. 

"I respect the lie you choose to live because you bested me in battle. Otherwise, we wouldn't be having this merciful little chat. After all, who can say they've beaten Drew Demoiselle in a fight. " he spat. Drew noticed the disgusted look on Launchpad's face and mistook it for confusion. "Oh look, you're idiotic friend is having some difficulty understanding the situation. Why don't you explain to him what you did to me" 

" I smashed his beak in. He was attacking people like us, he had secret police invade one of our clubs. He had a hot poker and..." Ziyi had grown limp in the rooster's grasp. Launchpad noticed several burns on her exposed neck and shoulder.

Drew clicked his tongue. " The worst thing about it is she doesn't regret it. Not one bit. It's a pity, really." 

"I would do it again if I had the chance!" she shouted. 

"I would love to see you try, it's been a while since then. As you can see, it's not as flimsy as it once was," he said and turned his head just so as to allow his beak tip to glimmer.  

Ziyi struggled again, although it seemed more calculated. Launchpad noticed her dagger slip from her sleeve into her hand. She kicked back and up, and the rooster grasped something entirely different. She cut the rooster who held Launchpad. A few feathers fell to the ground and only a small bloodless cut was the result. They flew back in fear and dropped Launchpad. Without hesitation, Launchpad reached into the back basket and took out the dart gun. He fired sporadically into the circle of warriors. Several of them toppled to the ground once contact was made with the darts. 

"What's in these things?" Launchpad asked Ziyi, who had picked up one of the fallen warrior's bow to compliment her knife. 

"Ox tranquilizers, for their surgeries and stuff" Ziyi replied as she chased a pair of warriors away who had run out of their own arrows. 

Drew flew at Ziyi with his beak poised to cut. Ziyi turned around and raised her fist into his beak. The side of the tip sliced the side of her hand. But simultaneously her second arm, with a dagger in its grip, completed its own slicing. The tip fell to the ground with a clang, bloodied. Drew gave out a nasal gasp. Launchpad and Ziyi were already out of the room.

She threw Launchpad her phone as they ran. "Call the police, if we can corner them here maybe I've got a chance to have a little peace in my life," Launchpad called. 

"They said they're on their way, but they've gotten plenty of other calls as well," 

Ziyi looked relieved although she still was tense. They got into an elevator and ascended. "Why are we heading up? I thought we're supposed to be trying to leave." Launchpad asked 

"We've got to keep him here. Drew can see we're riding up, he'll follow us and stay in the building long enough for the police to arrive."  

"I don't think he's unreasonable enough to chase after us rather than escape." 

"After what I've done to his beak, reason is the last thing on his mind" There was a silence between them. "Do you want to know why I gave you that feather? Ziyi asked.

Launchpad subconsciously touched his upper left chest where he had slipped the feather for safekeeping. He nodded.  

"I gave you the feather just to have you destroy it after you've broken up with Hank because what the feathers mean to me. They keep me together as much as they tear me apart. I wake up every day and I have to live with them, literal eye-catching reminders of someone who I'm not. But when I'm on a stage with them, giving a performance, they're no longer mine. They become a prop or gimmick, part of the costume. It's a sign of strength to me in those moments. I want it to be a sign I'm right there with you as you go through a difficult time. Me knowing you'll get rid of it could be a little complimentary motion of support towards me as I work on removing the rest of them." 

"I promise, I'll do both of those things Ziyi or my name isn't Launchpad Crash McQuack" 

The elevator doors opened to a floor currently under renovation. Paint cans and wooden planks lay eerily on the floor, stuck mid-movement. Large floor-to-ceiling windows had yet to be installed, a chill was allowed to crawl throughout the room. Ziyi and Launchpad shuddered. A ding echoed in the darkness, the other elevator had arrived. Drew stepped out. "Did you really think I wouldn't find you? You practically hid right in front of me" he froze. The sound of police sirens squealed from below. His face hardened. "You sneaky rats!" he spat. Drew dashed to the open window and jumped. Launchpad and Ziyi rushed over to find he had landed on the suspended scaffold used for window cleaning. Drew drove the platform down into the newly arrived fog below. Launchpad leaned over the edge and fired the dart gun. The dart was lost in the clouds, no one was sure if he had hit its target.

Ziyi continued to stare frightened out the window. "I guess this is it, Launchpad. I have to go." 

"Wait, Ziyi do you really have to?" Launchpad asked despite already having known the answer. 

"What happened with Drew at the club, it would've been just as realistic with the regular police, I have to go tell the others. The _Ping Dragon_ has been compromised. We have to be strong, Launchpad." She stopped. "I love you" 

"I love you too," he whispered back. They kissed as the clouds parted behind them, the moon revealed itself and poured a spotlight onto them. "I guess things never really ended between us" 

"No they didn't, and I don't think they ever will. Goodbye, my love." Ziyi said and jumped from the window, her trail opened as a glider. The ever haunting eyes glittered in the pale moonlight.  She landed on the roof of another building below and disappeared into the fog. Launchpad stared dreamily in her direction. 

"Oh snap, Mr. McDee is going to be waiting at the dock!" he exclaimed. He began a hurried effort to make it before the hour was up.

*****

Launchpad held the door of the _Sunchaser_ open while he panted. 

"Whoa, Launchpad, what happened to you?" Dewey asked as the others filed into the plane. 

"Eh you know, tourist stuff," Launchpad replied, exhausted. Dewey seemed satisfied with the answer and boarded. Launchpad turned once again to the moon and its blue-tinged ring. "Goodbye Ziyi, wherever you are." The _Sunchaser_ purred and drifted away from the glowing city of Macaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT WEEK:  
> Bless Eagletonia!- Fenton meets Hank Montague-Harrier


	11. Bless Eagletonia!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenton meets Hank Montague-Harrier

Fenton sat and looked through the window of the airport. The moon showed brightly in the sky. He waited for a plane to fly by and obscure it just for a moment, a sign his boyfriend would be coming home. He opened up his phone and made sure he read the articles on polyamory one more time, despite the many hours he had spent reading them. A plane floated down the runway. Fenton nearly expected it to wobble and crash lightly on the field nearby, but he reminded himself Launchpad was only the passenger and not the driver. He fidgeted with his phone further, either to scan passages of the articles or just give him something to do with his fingers in anticipation.  

Soon enough, the familiar leather jacket and pale green cap were in view. Fenton burst from his seat and ran to Launchpad. In return, Launchpad scooped Fenton into his arms. "I've missed you so much," Launchpad said as he nuzzled against Fenton, a smile perched on his beak. Fenton reciprocated the gesture.

"I'm sorry Launchpad, for how I reacted when you came out. But I've been doing lots of reading and I think I've got the hang of it," 

"That's great Fenton, but I've got to apologize a little too. I know I get to determine who and when I come out to others but I wasn't entirely in the right to not tell you. Someone who I know loves me so dearly deserved to be told sooner," Launchpad said, his voice trailed off at the end. He sensed footsteps and their sudden stop behind him. Hank now stood overhead. 

"This must be Fenton, that scientist boyfriend you've been telling me so much about," Hank smirked. Fenton grew embarrassed. Launchpad put Fenton down and stood up as if he just remembered he hadn't turned off the oven. His expression was that of seeing a burnt dish. 

"Launchpad, who's this?" Fenton asked 

He hesitated. "An old friend of mine, we dated a little over a year ago. He's just here for a quick visit. He popped up at the house and we found out we were both heading to Duckburg. His name's Hank Montague-Harrier" They shook each other's hands.

Fenton's face suddenly lit up. "Wait, Montague-Harrier as in Phillips Montague-Harrier, the founder of Eagletonia Heights?" 

"Ah, I see you're aware of his greatest achievement, over four hundred acres and-" 

"-home to some of the rarest plant life and even more rare cases of wildlife. It's always been my dream to just study, even for the briefest moment, the rarities found there."  Fenton blurted out. 

" I was going to say one of the world's best sporting facilities, but I still think we're on the same page." He turned smoothly toward Launchpad. "How about it Launchpad? Would you mind if I invited you two for a little evening at Eagletonia Heights?" 

"Blathering blatherskites, you don't really mean that!" Fenton gasped 

"Why not? My dad's not going to mind if his son invites an old friend and," he winked at this, " hopefully a new friend, to his country club. It's not like he doesn't make plenty of money already, how do you think he could afford to build it in the first place?"  

Launchpad thought about what Hank had told him at his parents' house. He noticed the unadulterated and absolute joy on Fenton's face at the prospect of seeing the wildlife. This is how he would make it up to him. He could do better for Fenton. "Alright, I'm down. Fenton, how about you?" he asked cooly. Fenton nodded, still in awe at the opportunity.  

***** 

Launchpad laid on his couch. He breathed heavily and then rubbed his temples. He looked exhaustedly at the clock. The hands ticked closer to 5:30. Hank would be outside to pick him soon. His stomach churned and his head spun as he tried to get up. He carefully slid back into a fetal position on the couch. He steadied his breathing and attempted again to get up. This attempt was more successful and he walked over to his fridge. Normally, he would prep his dinner or make a small snack, but he figured chips would suffice. Launchpad almost approached the door, to ask Ms. Beakley for help, but his mind reeled over Hank's conversation that last day of his trip. He felt he deserved to feel this way. He plopped chips into his open mouth until the clock read 5:30 and a limo honked from outside.

Launchpad stepped into the limo, still sickly. Hank crossed his legs as he sipped a mimosa. "You've been really naughty Launchpad. I mean, did you see Fenton this morning? It's a pity what you're doing to him."  he chuckled.

Launchpad looked up as he sat loosely on his seat. "What do you mean? He was happy, he was so happy to see me." 

"Tsk tsk, you're only seeing it from your angle. When you dated me you made me feel so dependent on you that I couldn't help but feeling joy when I saw you. Remember, abusers don't always know they're the abusers. And sometimes, the abuser acts kind at times when the results are desirable. I bet can relate to that one." 

"You don't really think I'm that bad, I can't be that bad." Launchpad nearly begged. 

"I'm just saying what I'm seeing. But don't worry. Maybe this little trip of ours can change your ways, and if not, maybe it'll give you a chance to you know, end things with Fenton." 

Launchpad didn't reply and sat there, even though the thought of leaving Fenton terrified him. The limo pulled to a stop a Fenton's house. Launchpad perked up but it wasn't with his usual energy.

Fenton sat next to Launchpad, a small notepad in his front pocket. "I've got to thank you again Mr. Montague-Harrier this is truly is a unique opportunity you're offering me here and I'm excited to-"

Hank cut him off. "Whoa, slow down there buddy. Call me Hank. This isn't a scientific invitation for research, just an invitation for us to chill together. But don't worry, research can still be a part of it. We'll have some dinner first and then we can go hang out." 

Fenton nudged Launchpad. "How are you, you're looking a bit sour?" 

"Oh, I think I just ate something that didn't sit well with me." He paused and realized he could test something out. "Yeah, I think I _crashed_ something nasty into my stomach." 

At the mention of the word "crash" Hank flinched and opened his mouth to wrongly scold Launchpad for yet another failure. He shut it quickly. Launchpad gave a weak sickly smile. Hank's expression twisted into fuming hate, which he hid behind another sip from his glass. He was losing his grip on Launchpad. They arrived at the gates of Eagletonia Heights. 

 Hank gave a look to the guard at the gates and they opened soon after. The limo rolled on. This particular entrance was by the golf course but the darkening sky gave way to sights of glowing fruits hanging in the gently swaying trees. Fenton looked out the window in awe. He directed Launchpad's attention to them.  

"Those are colloquially known as Siren's apples. They're coastal trees that supposedly grew beneath the ocean long ago but evolved to survive on land. Look," he pointed at the bottoms of the trees. Misters were pointed at an angle and sprayed all over the tree in sporadic periods. "They've added misters to emulate ocean spray. Isn't it incredible?" Launchpad reached up through the limo's roof and plucked one of the apples from a branch. The fruits were not physically apples, as they were naturally segmented and were far softer. He opened it and gave a few pieces to Fenton. Fenton smiled and gleefully accepted. Hank looked on in terror as the two enjoyed the fruit together. Fenton noticed Hank's expression and too became shocked. "Oh my, Launchpad, we never asked Hank if we could have one, or even if he would want a piece." 

Hank, realizing his cover had nearly been blown, recovered. "It's not that. I just didn't want your appetites to be ruined before we even had dinner. Eat on but let's be wary about how much." He added a fake chuckle at the end for sincerity.

Fenton wrapped the leftovers in the leathery leaves attached to the fruit. "Wow, these leaves are of a fascinating construction."

Launchpad stared coldly at Hank as he took the wrapped leftovers and tucked them into his coat pocket.  

They approached a building in the style of a luxury cabin suspended over the bottom of a rushing waterfall. "Here it is, Ol' Simpson's, the guaranteed finest dining establishment in the entirety of Downy County, and likely the entire state" 

Neither Fenton nor Launchpad was convinced by the flowery speech although Fenton politely tried his hardest to maintain his manners. "It's a privilege to be eating here I see, especially with a fine gentleman such as yourself." 

"I can see regardless you're a man of etiquette. I can respect that. Let's head inside. I bet you're all still hungry even with having eaten those apples." Hank lead them into the restaurant. The dining room bustled with activity. Hank walked through it all with a flaunting of authority. Waiters and waitresses would stop dead in their tracks as he stepped toward his seat, already reserved. He leaned back and nonchalantly raised his legs onto the table. Fenton grew disgusted although he kept it to himself. A waiter gave everyone a glass of water. Launchpad reached out to take a drink when Hank remarked; "Better be careful there, buddy, wouldn't want to crash that cup onto the table" 

Launchpad felt himself flinch lightly but still finished his drink. What was normally a harmless joke Launchpad often made about himself became bitter and hateful as it passed through the beak of Hank. Fenton looked over at Launchpad but continued to examine the menu.

Hank's newfound joy at the shift in Launchpad's demeanor didn't have to be hidden by a glass, it could easily be mistaken as excitement for the meal ahead. The food turned out to be delicious and equal to the expected anticipation granted by Hank's introduction. The night continued on as Hank led them on a tour of the country club. Hank made subtle jabs at Launchpad in between informative monologues about the history of Eagletonia Heights. Launchpad tried his hardest to ignore them and focus on spending time with Fenton as he expressed the same child-like wonder as the aquarium but far more potent. Fenton seemed to put in more effort than usual to keep Launchpad's attention on the wonders of nature. Not much made Launchpad happier than seeing Fenton excitedly experience the world around him right by his side.  

***** 

Hank had planned to drop off Fenton and Launchpad separately but Fenton mentioned he had forgotten a book at Launchpad's place right as they pulled up. Reluctantly, Hank complied and Fenton now sat next to Launchpad on the couch. "So, Hank's a bit of a handful," Fenton said as he sank further into the couch. "Don't get me wrong I really enjoyed hanging out with you, getting to see those amazing things, but I don't think going back would be worth it if it meant having to see him again." 

"Yeah, he can get a little... careless. Uhm, why don't you find that book and get going? You wouldn't want your mom getting worried."  

'Launchpad, my mom isn't going to worry about me I'm nearly thirty and I told her I would be hanging out with you anyways." 

Launchpad realized something. "Wait a minute, you didn't leave a book here. You would never do that" 

"You're right. I want to know what's wrong Launchpad. Why do you want me to leave so soon?"

"He got me thinking, maybe I shouldn't be with you. He was telling me how terrible I was to him and I haven't been much better to you," Launchpad said 

"Don't you think it's a little odd he just showed up at your parents' place when you're just about to leave? Or even knew you were heading back to Duckburg?" 

"Not really, Hanukkah is on the calendar. It's commonplace knowledge if you think about it," 

"Launchpad!" Fenton raised his voice, "That's not the point." he breathed deeply. " I hurt you when you came out, not the other way around. Can't you see he just wants you to suffer, that he wants to be on the top, even if it means hurting you? He's terrible. I watched him talk to you at Eagletonia." Fenton looked over at Launchpad's expression, it still displayed concern. "Launchpad, I love you too much to lie to you. If you were to ever hurt me, even if it was the smallest infraction, I would let you know. You care so deeply about what you do to me that my love involves making sure you know how I feel" 

"But you looked so sad when I came out, you looked scared," Launchpad said quietly 

"I was, I felt like maybe I wasn't good enough for you. That I was just a small nerd who helps people out in a decked out mech. But I realized that feeling was just me. I felt guilty after, which is what you saw because I had even thought that. It was my insecurity, not you, that hurt me" Fenton said while he anxiously ran his fingers through his arm feathers. 

A single feather fell out and glided to the ground. Launchpad sat unearthly still. "Fenton, Hank hurts me. He makes me feel bad, the worst I've felt in a long time. He did it before when we dated and he's doing it now." 

 They hugged and sat still in each other's embrace. "It's going to be okay, I'm here with you now." 

"I love you, Fenton," Launchpad whispered. 

"I love you too," Fenton whispered back. "What made you tell me?" 

"That feather that fell out of your arm. I know it's a bit strange but before I broke up with Hank, I talked to an ex of mine in Macaw. While we escaped a crime family she made me promise to do it after she heard what he did to me. She gave me one of her feathers as a reminder of that promise. A promise I've broken now. Your feather now just reminded me I deserve better, and so do you, everyone, really."  Launchpad said his tone flat.

Fenton separated from the hug and stood up. "Let's do it then, together. Let's get Hank out of your life and out of Duckburg," he said triumphantly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT WEEK:  
> Distracted Weekend- Can Fenton help Launchpad with Hank while also facing extra pressure from the Board of Directors?


	12. Distracted Weekend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Fenton help Launchpad with Hank while also facing extra pressure from the Board of Directors?

"Let's do it then, together. Let's get Hank out of your life and out of Duckburg," he said triumphantly.

"Fenton, it's about midnight. Can we maybe sleep a little first?"

 “You’re right. Let’s get him out of Duckburg, tomorrow” Fenton said less enthusiastically. "On a slightly unrelated note, did you really call me 'scientist boyfriend'?' 

"Yeah, it's sort of cute right? At the moment I was struggling to find a nice descriptor for you and it popped into my mind." Launchpad chirped, finally in a better mood following yesterday's disaster. 

"I like it," Fenton said quickly. He blushed. Launchpad had pulled out the couch into a bed when Fenton's phone beeped. "Blathering blatherskites! I got a Gizmo-Alert. Okay, love you Launchpad," He kissed him and then burst out the door. he rushed back and added; "You need to tell me that crime family story when you can." 

Alright, love you, Fenton!" Launchpad yelled as Fenton dashed back out the door again. Launchpad took a moment's rest on the half-made pull out bed and passed out. 

***** 

Launchpad woke up and rolled over, half expecting to find Fenton by his side. He noticed a vase of red camellias on his table. A note was tied to one of their stems. It read; "Sorry, I won't be there with you when you wake up. I got called into the Money Bin for a meeting after my assignment for Gizmoduck. I'll call you when it's over, which hopefully won't be long. Love, Fenton-scientist boyfriend." The signature was decorated with a patch of small hearts.  

Launchpad checked his phone. No missed calls. Launchpad sent a text to Fenton. "Babe, do you want some breakfast?", an attempt at trying a new romantic nickname. Three dots floated for a bit and then Launchpad received a thumbs-up emoji. A heart followed soon after. He wrapped an apron around himself. He buttered a pan for a few eggs placed two slices of bread in the toaster. From his fridge, he pulled out some strawberries. The eggs sizzled across the pan as he scrambled them. He sprinkled in some pepper and salt. The Toaster clicked and Launchpad replaced the toasted slices with another pair. He slid the scrambled eggs onto plates with careful ease and tucked toast on the side. He placed a fair pile of strawberries on each plate on the fraction of space that still remained. He put the plates down on the table and waited. Still no texts or Fenton. 

The steam had long stopped its rise from the eggs and Launchpad feared the meal would become cold. He sent another text and there wasn't an answer. Launchpad waited a few minutes before he scarfed his down his plate of lukewarm eggs and crusted bread. He went through the garage door and headed toward the mansion's kitchen. The kitchen was empty but he left a post-it note with a smiley by the plate's side, in case anyone was unsure if they could eat it.  

Launchpad came back to the garage to hear the sound of a car horn. He took a peek outside the garage's side door. Even though the glass was stylized into distorting what was on the opposite side, Launchpad identified Hank's new Porsche. He leaned against the door and slid to the ground, the honking continued on. His breathing became stunted. He struggled to regain his composure. "I can do this. I can do this," he whispered harshly to himself. He looked up at the vase on the table, and then at the singular plate in the sink. "It would be really great if Fenton was here" he whispered. Launchpad slowly stood up to take a camellia from the vase and tuck it into his outer breast pocket. He grasped the doorknob with vigor and opened the door. He marched over to the car. 

The side window rolled down and Hank leaned his head out. "I never thought you had it in you. What you did yesterday was unacceptable, man. Launchpad, you just turned right back to your old self," 

"Shut it, Hank!" Launchpad snapped. although his voice had trembled. 

Hank reeled back in shock. He was unprepared for such a response. "Whoa there buddy! There's no need to get so violent. I came back here to help you remember?" 

"Actually, I don't remember because you were never here to help me out. You just want me back to break me. It's not going to happen." His eyes drifted the camellia, its movement oddly mirrored that of a lone feather in the wind. " I've been hurt too often, but I'm strong, I'm a survivor. Now leave before I revoke your security pass and you're forced to leave." Launchpad said coldly. 

"Drive," Hank commanded. The Porsche began to back away from the garage. It appeared he had driven it over some of the flower beds and the luxury wheels were now clogged with mud and flower bits. Launchpad recognized some of them as camellias. He also took note of a smug smile as Launchpad noticed, it was an intentional "mishap".

A jet-engine like a buzz was heard above. In full Gizmoduck mode, Fenton levitated above. He lowered himself to the ground and approached the car. "I can see you're having a little trouble leaving the property sir. Let me assist you" He said. Gizmoduck picked up the car and used a hand to spin the wheels at an incredible speed, the debris flew off. With the lifting of the vehicle, the screams of Hank echoed. 

"Put me down, you imbecile!" Hank managed to crack out weakly. Fenton felt tempted to leave him forever suspended in the air but as Gizmoduck there was a necessity to act within reason. Fenton's thoughts weren't unheard, the suit switched one of the fingers to a blade tip and ran it along the side. Paint flaked off in large chunks as it increased in speed. With his shock, Fenton lost his focus and dropped the car. Finally free from its restraints, it sped off, the screams of Hank still emanated from within as it disappeared beyond the horizon. 

Launchpad ran up to Fenton, who jumped out of the suit and met him halfway. "I'm so proud of you, I'm sorry I couldn't have been there with you from the very beginning." Fenton apologized. 

"No, you were there," Launchpad said plainly. Fenton looked up confused before he realized the object in Launchpad's pocket.

"I don't want to ruin this moment but... I don't think I'll be Gizmoduck for much longer." He spoke quickly but his speed sputtered out with his final words. 

“Wait, what? Is that what the meeting was about?” Launchpad asked.

“Yes, and there was a vote for if there would be an extension to the Gizmo-duck program. They talked about all the success it’s been getting and the positive public reception but then they mentioned some obscure image. Photo X-67, I think it was called. It changed how they viewed Gizmoduck. They called the vote once it was brought up. The majority was against the extension.” Fenton informed Launchpad of this as he stepped out of the suit to her closer to Launchpad.

“You’re not going to get paid for it but you can still be Gizmoduck. You were doing it before the program right? Now you can be a vigilante-like Darkwing Duck” Launchpad mentioned cheerfully. They went back inside.

“No actually, I can’t,  although thanks for trying to cheer me up." he warmly chuckled. "When I signed up for the program I signed over the right to own Gizmoduck. The ownership of the suit reverts back to them once I’m out of the program.”

“That’s crazy. Why did you agree to it, I thought you loved being Gizmoduck?” Launchpad said while at the oven, preparing a brunch for Fenton.

“I do. I thought Scrooge was going have my back, but he was the determining vote in the decision and he voted to end the program. And now I might be jobless again and I haven’t even had time to help you out with all the Hank stuff and-“  Fenton spiraled.

Launchpad wondered alongside Fenton why Scrooge would vote against something he had previously advocated for but he realized at the moment he had something else to deal with. “Shh. Hush babe. You've done so much.” Launchpad said as he pushed a steaming crêpe towards him. Fenton's tense posture eased and his facial expression softened.

“We’ve both had an intense past few hours. We’re not responsible for everything in each other’s lives. Our only job is to love and support each other. We can talk about Hank and Gizmoduck later but for now, there’s something I’m making more important.” Launchpad patted the spot next to him on the couch and Fenton leaned into him in a cuddle while he ate the crêpe. “So Scrooge wanted to see this golden cricket in Macaw...”

*****  

"And you haven't seen her since? Aren't you worried about her?" Fenton asked. 

"A little, but you heard how she acted. She's a survivor, when she can resurface she'll call, she has my number." Launchpad said. 

"It's been over a year though." 

"When you're in a place like Macaw you've got to have the skills to survive. Ziyi's got them in spades." 

"It must've been difficult, right?" 

"What?" 

"Living there. You were with her when you dated her. You had to survive too." 

Fenton noticed Launchpad's posture stiffen. "It was difficult, but I was so in love it almost numbed the pain. I was foolish, she could be too, but there was wisdom there as well. We avoided the increasingly likely conclusion, we didn't want to acknowledge life was tearing us apart. Regardless of what we wanted, it happened. Every time I go back it's the same story." 

"Maybe next time it'll be different. You can finally be together. I think I would like to meet her. She seems fascinating" 

Launchpad smiled " You would. I think you two would get along. She's really cool-like you but in a different way. Maybe you can tag along next time I get a call" 

Fenton wasn't sure if Launchpad was being completely serious but he was fine either way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT WEEK:  
> Clipped Wings-Launchpad works to cheer up Fenton. Scrooge makes a big announcement 
> 
> Find me on Twitter to ask questions and for story update notifications: @vibrant_orchid


	13. Clipped Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Launchpad works to cheer up Fenton. Scrooge makes a big announcement

"There's something bugging me about that meeting, and I'm sure it's getting to you too. Why would Mr. McDee vote against Gizmoduck?" Launchpad pondered. 

"We still don't know if the program has actually been terminated, the vote was in a general sense, more of an opening of a discussion regarding the termination of the program-" Fenton said before he was interrupted by his phone. They looked toward the vibrating phone. Slowly, Fenton picked up the phone and they both leaned in. "Nope, it's over. They want me to turn in the suit before the end of the day." Fenton sank into the couch. " I didn't realize it would end so soon, that I would... feel this way. But it's fine, it's fine. I'm fine. I'm not fine." 

Launchpad stood up. "I can't stand it. I'm going over to the Money Bin now and I'm going to ask Mr. McDee what's going on. We're pretty tight so he's got to give you your job back." He had made his way to the door when Fenton told him to stop.  

"I don't want you to go," Fenton begged.

"Ah, that's really cute babe, I won't be gone long. You like "babe" right?" Launchpad chirped. 

"Yes. No. Yes, on calling me "babe" but no on going to talk to Scrooge. I can't have you do that." 

"Why, don't you want to be Gizmoduck again, soaring through the sky and helping others out?" 

"I do, but you can't do it, I have to do it. You've already done so much for me. I feel like you've had to make so many sacrifices for me and I know I haven't done anything back." 

"Fenton, relationships aren't a consistent pattern of actions for the others involved. It's supposed to be equal contributions but they all don't have to happen right after each other. If you feel like you're not doing enough, it'll happen. I won't invalidate those feelings, but I will say it meant so much to me that you did that research. I couldn't say it before but I'm saying it now. That's love, those small seemingly insignificant thoughts and actions are everything. I want to show you something.” Launchpad went over to his jacket hanging on a chair. He fished through the inner pocket and pulled out the Pride Flag. “I’ve been meaning to hang this up but I haven’t gotten to it yet. Look at it” He let go of the one edge and it unfolded completely. “My parents made it for me, for Hanukkah”

“But I thought your parents were a little, unwilling, about being pan and polyamorous? What made them change their minds?”

“The same things that helped you out. Love and an open mind. They looked up the symbols and everything. I was really proud of them. I’m proud of you too. You took the time to improve yourself in your understanding of who I am. I may be ready to rush off to save your job but let’s not compare an apple and orange. One’s a fruit and one’s a color. I may express my love in a big juicy and fruity action, but you express your’s in subtle shades.” 

Fenton grinned. “I love you, you goof”

“I love you too,” Launchpad said. He went back into the pocket of his jacket “Hey look at what I found.” I his hand was the leather-leaf bag of Siren Apple slices. “We’ve still got these. And they have seeds, so maybe you can plant them and we can have our own supply. No need to go sneak back to Eagletonia”

“That’s what I should do. Start gardening. The limo wrecked some of the gardens, including the one with the camellias. We can restart it on our own. I'm sure Ms. Beakley would appreciate it as well. We have these and we have those” Fenton said and pointed at the base of camellias.

“Oh, romantic” Launchpad playfully crooned. “Why don’t we start today? It’ll be fun and it can take your mind off Gizmoduck.”

“Not a bad idea,” Fenton replied. He paused and continued. “ If you really want to ask Scrooge for my job back then you can, but can you also pick up supplies while you’re out? I can start planning out the blueprint and we can finalize it together when you get back. Also, take the suitcase with you”

“Sounds snazzy to me babe. I’m heading out. He tipped his hat and put it on alongside his jacket. Fenton was already in the midst of scratching away at a pad of paper as the door closed.

*****

“Hey, Mr. McDee, what’s up?” Launchpad said as he leaned casually on Scrooge’s desk in his office.

“Yes, Launchpad?” Scrooge replied, focused intensely on a fine stack of paperwork.

“I was just a bit curious regarding a certain workplace event related to a friend of mine. Name starts with an F. Adorably hot, sort of short, and a bit nerdy-but in a cute way” Launchpad hinted

“If you’re asking about the termination of the Gizmoduck program I’m afraid I can’t say much. The exact details are confidential. I wish I could’ve kept Fenton on but it was getting too dangerous”

“In all due respect, the suit has lasers, sir,” Launchpad noted.

“A different kind of danger. Not a threat to Fenton directly, not that I don't care for the chap, but possibly the entirety of Duckburg. Even now, I’ve said too much. Tell Fenton I’m sorry but to stay hopeful. I think there’s an arrangement I can make that will blow this Gizmoduck disappointmentout of the water”

Launchpad put the suitcase containing Gizmoduck down and obediently nodded. He left the office, having picked up the hint the interaction was over.

*****

“He said he might have something for you soon, and to stay hopeful” Launchpad reported.

“Sounds like a typical response, but I think I will stay hopeful. Ready to start that garden?” Fenton's disappointment was unapparent in his tone. "Here's what I have mapped out so far." Fenton slid the rough sketch of the garden over to Launchpad. "The wreckage was pretty extensive so that gives us a lot of space to work with. Unfortunately, with the requirements needed for the Siren Apple Tree, we're going to have to sacrifice a lot as well. I didn't fill in any flowers beyond what we have here already. It's going to take a lot of prep work," 

"I like it. I got some plywood for the sides of the flower boxes, mulch, trowels, your basic gardening supplies. I also picked up these, can't be catching rays while planting seeds," Launchpad pulled out matching wide-brimmed straw hats and tossed one to Fenton. "Wait, I've got to change." Launchpad ran back into the house and reappeared wearing denim overalls over a ratty striped shirt. He tied the straw hat on his head. "Let's get started," 

***** 

The sun climbed through the sky as Launchpad and Fenton clambered over a sector of the McDuck Mansion. As it reached its destination beyond the surrounding hills, Launchpad and Fenton finished building the flower boxes and had mixed the mulch. " I think it's time to bring it in for today, don't you think?" Fenton said exhausted. 

"I think I could go on for a few more hours, to be honest. But I can see you're ready to take a break" Launchpad said. As they neared the door Launchpad had quickly run back and checked the strength of a recently constructed flower bed. "I'm just making one last check" He fiddled with the sides and then made a thumbs-up.  

"We should wash up. There's a bathroom down the hall and Ms. Beakley hasn't made her way down this hall today so we won't be dirtying anything up." Launchpad suggested.  

"I don't have any spare clothes. This was sort of a spontaneous activity." Fenton said. 

"Uh, just borrow some of mine." 

Fenton stared at Launchpad. "You're joking, right? There's no way they could fit me." 

"Not if they're not shrunk. I have some old shirts I can go shrink in the washer and dryer." 

"Launchpad, if you can do that why not just wash my clothes," 

"Oh, you're right." Launchpad laughed. "Look at you, being so smart. Once you've changed out of them I'll drop them off with mine in the laundry room on my way to the other bathroom."  

***** 

Fenton was the first out of the shower. He waited, a towel around his waist for Launchpad to finish. Above him, the sound of water rushed.  He could hear that down the hall it was silent, the wash was complete. Fenton decided to risk it and head down to the laundry room. He found his clothes and went back to the bathroom to change back into them. He came out feeling rejuvenated, his mind completely blank of the employment fiasco of that morning. He found himself whistling as he went back to the garage to wait for Launchpad. 

"Fenton!" Rosa Crackshell-Cabrera shouted from down the hall. 

"Mom, what are you doing here?" Fenton asked. 

"I'm just setting up for tomorrow's GSA meeting. What are you doing here? When you were said you were hanging out with Launchpad I didn't realize it would be an overnight event." Rosa said, her tone jokingly suggestive. 

"Mom, it wasn't like that. Launchpad was having some trouble the other day and I had to help him out. Then this morning, I received some bad news I got laid off." 

"Scrooge McDuck laid you off. How dare the man even think of doing that to my son. I have half a mind to walk right up to him and-" Rosa steamed. 

"That's exactly what Launchpad did. He told him that it involved a larger overbearing issue and that it wasn't based off me personally." Fenton sputtered, hoping to extinguish his mother's anger. 

"Tell Launchpad that I respect him more than I did before. But mark my words, the next time I see Scrooge I'll be sure to give him a piece of my mind." 

"Oh hello there Fenton. I've been meaning to speak with you. Ms. Beakley mentioned you were doing some gardening but neither of you was there," Scrooge said as he stepped into the hallway.  Rosa fumed. She marched up to Scrooge. Before she could open her mouth Scrooge quickly continued, aware of the danger he was in. "Fenton, I've convinced the Board to give you a job." 

Rosa backed up but remained ready to strike at any moment. Fenton asked; "A job, so it's not Gizmoduck?" 

"I'm afraid not. We've noticed some security issues and had to stop using Gizmoduck, for now at least. But I'm proud to say what I have for you. How would you like to join the team working on a special project of mine?" 

"What kind of 'special project'?" Fenton questioned. 

Scrooge's eyes lit up mischievously. "A rocket, lad. A rocket that can fly to the moon." 

Fenton looked at Scrooge as if he was crazy. "Mr. McDuck, I'm no rocket scientist. I can't work on something like that!" Rosa could only look on shocked. 

"I don't see why not. I've seen the improvements you've made to Gizmoduck and they're quite impressive. The team could use your kind of creativity." Scrooge said. 

"I'm flattered" Fenton managed to let out. "I don't know what to say. This is incredible. Thank you, Mr. McDuck." 

"There's no need to thank me. It's the least I could do after having to lay you off. Meet me outside the Money Bin tomorrow for a press event regarding the rocket." Scrooge walked away and turned at the end of the hall. 

"Oh, Fenton. I'm so proud of you, you're going to be working on a rocket. I always knew you were going to do great things" Rosa gushed. They hugged each other. "Well, I better be off to go prep the room tomorrow and I think you've got to tell your boyfriend the latest news. Fenton turned to look down the hallway. Launchpad walked down the stairs in his Darkwing Duck towel, his red hair tousled and messy. Fenton bit his lip. He turned back around but his mom was gone. Fenton retreated back to the garage to wait for Launchpad.  

***** 

Launchpad entered the garage, his hair still uncombed. He sat down next to Fenton and kissed him. "How are you doing babe? Everything alright?" 

"When I was on my way back here I ran into Scrooge. He told me that he was going to give me a job. Except instead of it being Gizmoduck, I get to work on a rocket. Can you believe it?" Fenton burst out excitedly. 

"Of course I believe it, I always knew you were fantastic. When do you start working? How excited are you?" Launchpad asked, clearly as excited as Fenton. 

"I don't know, Scrooge told me to meet him tomorrow for a press event so I guess it starts then." he paused. "I sort of like this messy look you've got going on here" Fenton added. 

"You do?" Launchpad responded playfully.

'I think you know I do because _I_ know you always have a comb on you." They exchanged passionate kisses. The moon rose up in the sky and cast its pale light over them through the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT WEEK:  
> Twin Beaks- Mark Beaks has something to say about Scrooge's rocket


	14. Twin Beaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark Beaks has something to say about Scrooge's rocket

Crowds gathered in front of the stage placed at the foot of the Money Bin. Roxanne Featherly had her van parked to the side. She and her team prepped their equipment for the perfect shot.

“It appears Scrooge McDuck is preparing to announce his latest project to the public. And it seems quite the significant one, the entirety of the Board of Directors are present for the event. A rare sight to behold no doubt. Perhaps an even more rare event is the existence of a press event. Scrooge McDuck is a known individual with a distaste for direct public interaction, his motivations for this event in particular therefore cannot be assumed to be simple. Duckburg News will return with more coverage after the weather.” Roxanne Featherly squinted at the stage while she scribbled in her notepad. She was ready to capture any hidden details. Roxanne heard the sound of a car approaching only to realize it was Scrooge’s limo.“Hurry up, he’s here. I don’t care if the weather broadcast isn’t over yet; if they really want to know they can take a peek outside for themselves.” With the camera pointed at the now parked limo with her in the forefront, Roxanne spoke “It appears DNN is getting an exclusive first look at Scrooge McDuck right before his big press event. The door opened and Fenton stepped out. “You’re not Scrooge” Roxanne snapped. Her tone shifted within seconds “But what is your purpose, sir? Are you perhaps involved with the topic of this event, any exclusive hints you would like to give to us?”

“Uh, uh” Fenton floundered beneath the focus of the camera. A car door slam was heard from the opposite side. Launchpad came out and guided Fenton away from Roxanne and towards the backstage area. “How was I supposed to answer? Even I’m only vaguely aware of what’s going on.” 

"And who is this? Another individual appears to aid the passenger of Scrooge's limo behind the stage. Past sources indicate he is Scrooge's personal driver, why would he be driving around that man? Does Scrooge have a new business partner? Why won't he answer questions? Maybe we'll receive the answers to these questions at the event, maybe we won't." Roxanne stepped away from the camera. She picked up her phone "No, I won't apologize for interrupting the weather I've got a story and I'm not letting it go. Whatever, I dare you to complain to management Tina."   

Roxanne Featherly raised her finger to her beak and stared directly at the cameraman. She motioned him forward with her hand. Roxanne approached the backstage entrance but made a sharp turn to the left. The cameraman followed, his camera lowered discreetly. Roxanne climbed over the dumpster and jumped over the fence it was up against. She dusted off her pantsuit. She was in. The cameraman tossed his camera over to her, Roxanne caught it in a perfect grip. She handed it back to him once he got over. They found a stack of boxes and hid behind them. She pushed some aside, which created a  small crack. The cameraman took his camera and slid it into place. "Now what?" he whispered, "Do we just sit here?" 

"Yes," Roxanne hissed. "I can guarantee no one else is going to capture what I'm getting." He looked at her. "I mean, what we're getting". Out of his view, she rolled her eyes. 

"The event is going to start any minute. Aren't we going to miss it? Isn't that the whole reason we came here?" he asked. He was the newest cameraman assigned to Roxanne and likely the next in a long string of those to be fired by her. 

"I got Team Two to cover it. They may have come for the press event, I came here for a story. Now hush." The cameraman stayed silent.

***** 

As Fenton walked behind them, the Board of Directors remained in their stoic postures up on the elevated stage. Scrooge was nowhere to be found. Fenton anxiously looked around for someone to help him. He wasn't used to attending these types of events and especially not being involved so deeply in one. Fenton decided to try inside the Money Bin but before he could Scrooge stepped out himself. "There you are, lad. Aren't you excited? This is the chance of a lifetime. Listen, I'm about to tell you something about this rocket that isn't going to end up as public knowledge." Roxanne nudged the cameraman and pointed at the conversing Fenton and Scrooge.

"This rocket, it's a personal endeavor. It's not a publicity stunt or just a project to get us into space commercially. I'm trying to find someone. This rocket will be different from any other. I'm using magic artifacts from around the world to make it. Hestia's Orb from the Temple of Aphrodite was one of them. You've been involved in the rocket's creation for longer than you've realized. Thank you, I'm glad to have you on the team." Fenton stood there shocked as Scrooge stepped up onto the stage. The crowd broke into applause.

 *****

 "See I told you it was going to be worth it. Now hurry, close up your camera we don't want to give off any hint if we're caught back here." Roxanne commanded before they removed themselves from hiding. They made their way back to the fence and she had the cameraman go first to hoist her up. They walked as fast as they could away from the stage. Back at the van, Roxanne ordered the cameraman to put away the camera as fast as he could. In the middle of her commands, someone approached her from behind. 

"Satisfied with your captured footage Ms. Featherly?" a voice boomed. It belonged to a smartly dressed falcon.

She squeaked in surprise but recollected herself. "As a matter of fact, I am. What makes you so interested?"  

"My employer has a lot of interest in footage pertaining to Scrooge McDuck. They would pay a handsome sum of cash if anyone were to hand any of it over." He pulled out a wad of cash. Roxanne's eyes swam over the money. 

"Okay, I'm listening." 

"It's simple. Give me the tape and you get the cash." 

"Open up the camera!" she barked at the cameraman. He rushed over to it and pulled the tape out. The falcon tossed the wad of cash to Roxanne and snatched the tape from the hands of the cameraman.  

"It has been a pleasure doing business with you Ms. Featherly. Good day." The falcon crept off into the crowd. 

"We just lost the footage! What will we tell the network?" 

"I thought I told you to keep your mouth shut. It's fine, I got something better and I'll just say someone in the crowd knocked the camera over and broke it. Easy as that. Now break it" The cameraman was hesitant but smashed the camera. "Take extra care to damage the part that holds the tape. It has to look convincing." Roxanne said as she lounged in a seat. 

"You seemed to trust him too closely. Aren't you worried to work with that man? How can you be sure he's not working with someone who would turn you in, or even Scrooge himself?" 

"When did you become so inquisitive? And no, I'm not worried. We've worked with each other before." She said while she adjusted her suit. "His name is Falcon Graves, but don't let me hear you saying that aloud anywhere. I have my connections too." 

The cameraman swallowed and put the damaged camera back into the van.  

***** 

"It certainly must be an honor for you all to be here, seeing me." Scrooge joked. The crowd burst into laughter. "After all, how often do I come out and do these types of things, all the time of course." The laughter had weakened to loud chuckles. "Anyways, today I'm here to make an incredible announcement to the city of Duckburg. McDuck Enterprises will be partially funding and running Duckburg's first ever Space Program." Audible gasps were heard from the audience before a thundering uproar in applause consumed all other sounds. "The construction of the first rocket, _The Spirit of Selene_ , has already begun." As he said this, a banner unraveled from the metal proscenium above with the name of the rocket on it. From the side, a board rolled out with concept art of it. The audience looked on in wonder. "Let's introduce the incredible team working on the project. As head inventor at McDuck Enterprise already, Gyro Gearloose has joined the project at its head." Gyro walked up onto the stage with a neutral scowl. He took a seat next to the Board of Directors after he stood for applause.  "A technological innovator who has eh, assisted Duckburg's very own hero-Gizmoduck, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera!" Fenton stumbled onto the stage and meekly waved. An overbearing cheer was heard from the front row from Rosa who was cheering and jumping excitedly. "Finally, a new scientist has joined McDuck Enterprise's Science Department  to work on the project, a recent receiver of a Master's Degree for Aerial Engineering, I'm proud to present- Chelsea Turaco." Again the crowd cheered as she sat next to Fenton. 

"Chelsea, it's great to see you!" Fenton said quietly, although it hardly mattered, the crowd was too excited to notice their talking. 

"It's good to see you too Fenton. I'm glad things worked out between you and Fenton. It would've been terrible if I lost my OTP, just kidding I don't put labels or expectations on other's relationships but you get my deal. Not to mention, Launchpad's polyam." Chelsea said nonchalantly. It became evident to Fenton that he did not entirely get "her deal" but he decided to nod anyways. Chelsea noticed a focused gaze from Gyro. He opened his mouth to speak but Chelsea stopped him. "My classes were conveniently after work hours, and you especially don't do a lot of paperwork so I had a lot of downtime at the secretary desk. Yes, it was difficult, but here I am." Gyro closed his mouth.  As Fenton looked clearly into the crowd for the first time he directed his attention towards Launchpad who stared whole-heartedly at the stage and then at his mother, who held a sign and waved it proudly.  

Scrooge continued. “Perhaps you may be wondering why exactly I made this event if I could easily have announced this through posters, memos, or newspaper articles. The answer is this. I need you, the people of Duckburg- the help McDuck Enterprise in its effort to reach the stars by spreading the word and to think to yourselves-‘Do I have what it takes to make it to space?’ Yes, you heard that right a lucky few of you will get to join the crew of this initial ship, and more as the fleet continues to grow” The audience reaction was mixed some seemed pleased at the opportunity and others wondered about the unspoken details. “Anyways, that’s it for the event you can all head out on your way.” Scrooge waved at the crowd, and cameras before he began to step off the stage.

As Scrooge drew near to the stage's exit, a swarm of drones flooded the skies just outside of the Money Bin property lines. “Hello citizens of Duckburg!” their speakers boomed. The crowd turned to see them. “Our _old_ town favorite, Scrooge McDuck may be offering you the exclusive chance to reach space, but I’ve got a better solution. Let’s not build a rocket for a select few, instead, let’s WADDLE into the future together as one with Waddle Tech’s own new project. _The Waddle Zeitgeist._ ” At the announcement of the name a generic pop track played. “Sound’s lit right?, but could you tell me-Mark Beaks that rockets aren’t cool. I didn’t think so.” The drones dispersed and a larger drone descended, it's fan whirled to a stop and the top slowly opened. Mark Beaks stepped out and took a bow. He had his arms held close to his body, they were filled with smartphones. He haphazardly tossed them to the onlookers. Scrooge scowled. Mark Beaks made eye contact and a proud gleam shined from his eyes. The Board of Directors stopped their collective false focus on Scrooge and whispered to each other. Seconds later, they rose from their seats and filed back into the Money Bin offstage. Scrooge walked over to the team. 

“Looks like we’re being handed a nice batch of competition, let’s get this started lads and lassie,” Scrooge said with a crack of his knuckles. Despite this, his ever-present confident tone seemed tainted. He walked back to the Money Bin witha spring in his step

 “Well, Scrooge is kind of dope. My kind of boss” Chelsea said while she nonchalantly picked up her chair and approached the edge of the stage. She brought it down hard on a drone that has been hovering. The drone twitched and lightly sparked as she picked it up. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with”

Gyro seemed unimpressed “How are we supposed to find that out if you’ve busted up the interior circuit board and wiring?”

“The drones are designed to be salvageable, they’re delivery. I’ve seen them around while flying Gizmoduck. Only the cheap outer casing must be cracked. Anyways, you’re pretty good at analyzing damaged electronics, I think you could do it for this too Gyro” Fenton mentioned.

“We’ll see what I have left to work with” Gyro muttered.

"It's just like being back in the lab," Fenton thought. He followed the other two off the stage. 

*****

From the side of the stage, Launchpad paid full attention to Scrooge’s presentation. Even as drones descended upon the back rows and a message boomed from their cluster, his eyes stayed glued to Scrooge and Fenton. He saw Fenton smile as he spoke to Chelsea and his heart rushed with heat. His phone buzzed. It was Scrooge, who needed Launchpad to pilot the _Sunchaser_ at that moment. Launchpad hopped onto the stage and then went inside the Money Bin. He headed straight to the elevator before Scrooge stopped him. "What exactly are you doing lad?" Scrooge asked. 

"I'm heading to the _Sunchaser_ , you wanted me to fly you somewhere. Some Soviet-era Russian mine." 

"Yes, but why would you need to take the elevator?" He said, becoming increasingly worried. 

"I parked it on the roof, Mr. McDee. It fit just fine." Launchpad assured. 

Scrooge wasn't too convinced and ran outside. The _Sunchaser_ sat precariously on the edge of the Money Bin. The lack of a swaying motion comforted Scrooge, but nothing was going to be completely reassuring until it was off the roof. He went back inside and took the elevator with Launchpad. 

"How about next time you just leave it back at the mansion. It would be a little less hard on the nerves?" Scrooge suggested bluntly. 

"Alright Mr. McDee, gotcha," he said paired with finger guns. He sighed deeply in content. "I'm so proud of Fenton and Chelsea, and Gyro. Although I don't know Gyro that well, we've met before and he wasn't exactly the nicest. I'm sure he's improved himself since; don't you think so Mr. McDee?" 

Scrooge shook himself as if he had broken out of a trance. "Uh, yes I do think so," he mumbled out despite not even knowing what Launchpad had asked. 

"You doing all right there? Do you need a glass of water or a snack? I think I have a granola bar in one of my pockets." Launchpad offered as he fished through his assortment of pockets. Upon his arrival at his back pocket, he gasped. "Here it is. I think I sat on it, hopefully, it's not one of the brands that are really crumbly." He shook the wrapper and the movement of a vast number of crumbs was heard. "It looks like I don't have a granola bar. Don't worry I think I've got some snacks on the plane. What am I saying? Of course, I do."  

Scrooge massaged his temples. "Launchpad, let's try keeping the volume down to a minimum. I've got a lot on my mind." 

"Sorry, Mr. McDee, I'm just a little too excited for Fenton I guess." Launchpad adjusted his hat. He removed it from his head and examined it. "You don't think I should have worn something nicer, right? This was a big deal for him and I showed up in my ordinary clothes." 

"I'm quite certain your presence was enough to make him happy," Scrooge said. Launchpad smiled and the elevator doors opened to the rooftop. 

***** 

The Board of Directors stopped the trio of scientists inside their lab. One of the buzzards clicked a remote and a metal curtain pulled down over the door. “We’ve decided to reveal this incredibly confidential information to you three as it creates an important sense of urgency to the matter at hand.”

“None of this is allowed to be discussed outside of this room,” Bradford added. Gyro glared at Fenton and smirked.

Bentley pulled out a paper sized photo print from a manila folder. “This is Photo X-67. It is a captured image from within Waddle Tech’s labs. I hope you can see what a concerning issue this presents.” The photo revealed a sterile and blinding lab littered with careful piles of metal. Robots levitated above the ground and were at work construction something in the center.

“That doesn’t look like a rocket. The pieces are more akin to being part of a factory mechanic arm rather than something for space.” Chelsea noted. 

“That’s because it’s not, and what’s being built isn’t the focus either, it’s who’s building it.” The third buzzard explained.

“They look like Gizmoduck. Blathering Blatherskites! That’s why you pulled the Gizmoduck program. Mark Beaks was getting information on how to construct it every time I went out. The drones! Chelsea! Gyro!Check the broken drone” Fenton shouted. “Hurry”

Having realized what Fenton had been saying the two of them opened the drone. Just as Fenton has suspected, a camera was positioned carefully beneath a camouflage of gadgetry. Chelsea grabbed a hammer and carefully tapped the delicate lens, shards toppled out. 

“The drones I saw. The notice was mutual. They must have begun to capture images and videos of my flight and of the suit itself. " Fenton started to spiral. 

Gyro rolled his eyes. "It looks like you're already compromising the information before the project has even started." 

"Take note Mr. Gearloose, that not everyone on this team had gone through the approval of the Board. We happen to factor for group compatibility. Try not to make Scrooge agree with our policies when it would benefit you otherwise." Bentley said sternly.  

"Once again we must remind you this material is top secret and should not be spoken to anyone outside this room. We also wish you good luck." The three buzzards filed out of the door once the metal blinds were removed.  

Fenton and Gyro turned around to begin working when they saw Chelsea already hunched over the work table. She had already scribbled a set of improvements over the blueprints. 

***** 

The skies had darkened and winter clouds swirled fiercely overhead. The _Sunchaser_ remained steady as it flew through its chaos. "Hey Mr. McDee, you've never really told me what this rocket's for, the name sounds familiar, I just can't put my finger on it," Launchpad asked as he turned towards Scrooge who sat nearby. The window was blurred by a torrent of raindrops and mist, any attempt to look through them would be futile. 

"I'm going to look for Della. I realized I had failed her so long ago and then again when I couldn't find her with all those ships. This time it's different. I have a family. I'm not alone. I've changed." Scrooge said. 

"Della, she's a pilot, right? A pretty good one I can imagine." Launchpad casually brought up. Feeling for a confirmation that his newly found fear was true. 

"Oh, she was a brilliant pilot, one of the best," Scrooge replied while he lounged back in his chair, his hat tipped over his face.

Launchpad began to sweat profusely. His grasp on the plane's controls loosened. He reached for the auto-pilot switch. He thoughts trickled into darker spaces. He wondered if his job was at stake? Could a family reunion turn into a layoff? He wouldn't be able to hang out with Dewey and the kids anymore. "It would be weird for an ex-employee to hang out with his boss's family, wouldn't it?" Launchpad managed to slip out. 

Scrooge stumbled out of the chair, Launchpad had woken him from a nap. "What? Did you say something, Launchpad?" he slurred. 

"Nothing sir! Sorry about waking you up from your nap! Would you like a snack? I have some dried fruit." Launchpad blurted out. 

Scrooge gave Launchpad a weird look. His eyes shifted toward's the panel. "Ah, we've arrived. You can wait in the plane while I just run in for a quick pick up." 

Launchpad landed the plane on a ledge of a snowy mountain. Snowflakes slowly fell onto the windows of the Sunchaser before they dissolved from the heat inside. Scrooge put on snowsuit and goggles. He gave a thumbs up and ran out into the snow. Launchpad looked out the window, Scrooge had entered a mine. Launchpad flipped through the plane's manual. He stumbled up a serrated edge. It was the page he tore out for his number. He fondly closed the book when a deep rumble emanated from the mine's entrance. Out of the darkness, Scrooge ran out, a basketball-sized arrowhead in his arms. He freed one of his arms and motioned for Launchpad to prepare to take off. Scrooge jumped into the plane and Launchpad took off. Beneath them, several rock giants threw icicles ranging from a sled to car sizes at the _Sunchaser_. 

"Told you it would be a quick trip," Scrooge said out of breath. 

***** 

"What is it? I don't know how to use it, just tell me what happens on it." Mark Beaks whined. He held the camera tape awkwardly in his hand with two fingers and a limp wrist. Falcon Graves held out his hand and Mark dropped it in disgust. He preceded to wipe his hands on his shirt. 

"Scrooge's rocket is to contain several magical artifacts. There also appears to be some emotional and personal connection to the rocket's actual purpose although what this is exactly this is currently unknown."  

"Interesting. I'm setting a reminder on my phone to form an archaeology team to send out to grab stuff for my rocket. And I'll tweet about it, JK I'm not stupid." Mark Beaks said while his fingers tapped insistently at the phone. Falcon stared into the security camera in the corner. He started to leave the room. Mark rolled his swivel chair in front of him. "Is Boo really going to leave without his kissy-kiss?" Mark puckered. Falcon lowered his head and Mark gave a small peck on his cheek. 

"Why do I put up with this?" 

"Because you're my BFF. It means Boyfriend Forever." 

"It really doesn't,"

"It does now. I just put it down on Urban Dictionary, and look it's trending." Mark turned his phone to face Falcon.  He nodded. 

"I'm off to bed. Goodnight honey," said Falcon. His tone was completely flat. 

As Falcon was already half-way out the door, Mark, with his eyes still glued to the glowing blue screen, replied "I'm more of an aloe vera kind of guy. But thanks boo, goodnight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT WEEK:  
> Star-Crossed: Tensions rise as the rockets near completion


	15. Star-Crossed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions rise as the rockets near completion

"How does this even work?" Gyro said while he tapped Hestia's Orb with a metal dowel. Blue sparks flashed with contact. "It's supposed to be a power source but there's nowhere to attach it to any of the wires or cables." 

"Maybe it sends out waves that will power the ship but I wouldn't know how to activate that. There's no switch, or any features really. Where did you say it was from Fenton?" Chelsea asked. 

"The Pyramid of Aphrodite. It was the power source there too. I'm assuming it's linked to love but how it does it I don't know. I don't believe it needs human contact, it seemed like the temple was active before we arrived. Maybe it does it with heat, there was a room with boiling water. 

 “Don’t you have a boyfriend? Why don’t you just call him over and make out in front of the thing?” Gyro mocked with a sour smile. Chelsea punched him in the arm.

Fenton hadn’t noticed. “Gyro, that’s brilliant!” Gyro’s beak fell open aghast. “The temple seemed to play into the, eh, desires of those who entered it. Perhaps giving fuel to those desires will cause it to activate. We could then begin to form a cohesive study on how it works.” Fenton already had a paragraph of text ready to send to Launchpad.

Gyro picked up on Fenton’s subtle verbal cue. He made a quick glance at Chelsea, who met his stare. They had both been thinking about the same thing. “How exactly did the orb respond to your desires? Wasn’t that part of the trap?” Gyro said, his tone warmer than before.

“You’re right, but I see no other way to activate the Orb.”

They looked at Fenton as if he was crazy, only to follow it with a shrug. They began to prep a variety of defensive weapons from laboratory tools.

“I have a feeling he just wants to make out with Launchpad.” Chelsea deadpanned.

*****

The Western Wing of McDuck Manor’s decadent garden flourished under the golden spring sunlight. Elaborate flower beds and exotic vines had forced Scrooge to create a hedge maze on the opposite side, to give the lawn a more balanced sense of decoration.Despite this, the Celtic inspired labyrinth paled in comparison to burst of color found beside it. Fenton and Launchpad couldn’t claim all of it as their own. Ms. Beakley has been an adamant supporter since the beginning and had begun to get involved soon after.

Fenton walked through an arch dotted with electric blue daisies. Some patches of the garden had been given to trees, which offered the admirer taking a stroll through the grounds an ample and cool space to rest.

In the center of the garden, Fenton and Launchpad had created an alcove from the shade of trees. Fenton found Launchpad under the Siren Camellia Tree. During the earlier days of their garden, they had snacked upon some of the remaining slices of Siren fruit. Being careful to gather up the seeds to plant, the collective clumsiness between the two of them resulted in the spilling of a few of them among the recently covered camellia mounds. To their surprise, the plants grew around each other and Fenton began a brief stint working on plant hybridization. Now it was the spot where their sat together in admiration of their work and often, of each other.

Launchpad lounged beneath the shady dome. Beads of moisture gathered on his upper body from the trees’ misters.“Launchpad, wake up" Fenton whispered while he shook him gently. He arose carefully, the droplets slid down his back beneath the cuff of his shirt. He shivered. 

"Yeah babe, what's up?" The words lazily fell from his beak. He reached for his hat only to realize it had fallen to the ground during his nap. 

"I sent a text, but I know you're exhausted," Fenton said as he kissed Launchpad, who reciprocated. 

"I'm sorry babe. What do you need me to do?" Launchpad said as he got up. 

"A little more of what we did," said Fenton sultrily. He switched his tone away from his joke.  "But we have to do it in front of Hestia's Orb, at the lab. I know it's weird but I think it might activate it." 

Launchpad shrugged. "It's not the weirdest thing I've done. Let me check for any messages for Scrooge. I used to be able to prepare the Sunchaser in advance a week before a trip. Now I think the most has been a day. Mark's archaeologists are a rowdy bunch." He flipped through his phone and pulled a groggy thumbs up.

They walked out of the garden. "I'm glad I'm dating someone who hears they need to make out with me in front of a magic rock for science and is okay with it." 

"Anything for you babe," Launchpad said.

*****

 "I'll do anything to help out honey," Falcon said as he sharpened a sword casually. "Those archeologists have brains, but they lack... knives. Scrooge wouldn't stand a chance against me." 

Mark Beaks paced around his office. The golden glow of the dome on top of the Money Bin shown brightly through his window. "Not that I doubt your skills bae but Scrooge is expecting something like that. I was thinking you could help out in a different way." Mark said as he tugged bawdily on Falcon's tie. 

"What did you have in mind?" he asked, playing into Mark's suggestive tone.

"I was thinking that Old Scrooge is expecting a direct attack, so we take a swing from the side. I've done a little online stalking and take a look at this." It was Launchpad's Instagram. His story had a picture of Launchpad lying down and Fenton resting on his chest.

The caption read "More than nap buddies" with a heart at the end. 

Falcon stared at the picture confused. "And what precisely does this mean? How did you even access this? I presume you haven't resorted to hacking just yet." 

"I haven't my sweet partner in crime. This is his Jim Starling/Darkwing Duck stan account, open to the public. And who's in the picture, his boyfriend who just happens to be working on Scrooge's rocket. With that piece of archaic technology you showed me, I realized Fenton falters under media attention. I have a plan to get their relationship trending, putting him under additional pressure." 

"Where do I play in this? Falcon asked. 

"You, my smoldering sexy beast," he said while he trailed his finger along his chest before he landed on the underside of his chin,", will tear them apart at the peak of their popularity and the depths of the scientist's stress." 

Falcon raised his eyebrow in curiosity. "And how will I do that?" 

"I'm certain you're familiar with the method of seduction. How about seducing the buff pilot?" Mark said. 

"I would be honored," Falcon grinned and put down his now sharpened knife. "How about you choose my outfit?" he suggested playfully. "Do you think he's into leather?" 

***** 

The orb burst into a bright red and emitted an eerie hum the second Launchpad and Fenton walked into the lab. Chelsea and Gyro leaped into action and approached the orb. Gyro reached his hand forward and his glove sizzled as a puff of smoke drifted upward. "It's hot," he said.

Chelsea pulled out a thermoelectric generator attached to a lightbulb. The second contact was made the bulb blew out. "Oh yeah, this thing packs a punch. You two wait right here. I'm going to go get some batteries. If we can store this energy for the ship then we won't even have to create any specially modified pieces." she said before she scurried off.

Gyro began to hook up the orb to several batteries already in the lab. Fenton stepped over to Gyro to help out. The glow of the orb caused a shadow to rise from behind Fenton. It shifted into a pink color and rose from the ground. The form twisted to become Launchpad. The double flexed it's oiled shirtless body. Fenton covered his eyes and groaned in embarrassment. 

"Hey, Fenton," the doppelganger hissed as it waltzed toward Fenton. 

"I'm sorry Launchpad," Fenton squeaked. 

"Gee Fenton, I'm not that buff," Launchpad said beneath muffled laughter. Gyro too almost started to laugh although he stopped when he realized own shadow had shifted. A woman arose from the ground and also flirted with Gyro. While Fenton had his attention turned towards Gyro's temptress he didn't notice the Launchpad double pick up a wire from the lab table with the intent to strangle Fenton. Launchpad rushed over to himself and pulled back. He wrestled it to the ground. Fenton saw the Launchpads fighting on the ground and ran over to help Gyro out.

In the midst of the chaos, no one noticed Chelsea walk in. She dropped the batteries. The doubles hissed and looked directly at her. The orb glowed harder and the doubles flickered. Their hisses dissolved into static. The orb stopped its hum and stood still on the counter.  Chelsea quickly stuffed the sphere into a box. "Is everyone okay?" she asked. They nodded from the floor. Gyro nodded as well but he wiped some moisture from his eyes. "I think I'll work on the orb on my own," she added, flustered. The lab was a mess. 

"What makes you think you'll fare any better?" Gyro spat as he nursed a jab from a high heel. 

"I'm not involved in anything like you two. The orb has nothing to go off of for me." Chelsea explained. 

"Well I'm not exactly going on dates with that chick but she still beat me up," Gyro said, his tone bitter. 

“Oh yes, I’m certainly interested in what approach you’re taking to prevent the Orb from reaching even your less obvious attractions,” Fenton said as he tried to sweep the fact his boyfriend saw what he did under the rug.

“I’m not really using any method to stop the Orb. There’s nothing there. Hestia’s Orb can’t make any of my fantasies come true because I don’t have them. I’m aromantic.” 

“But let’s not talk about it right now, we’ve got work to do,” Chelsea said as she restored her composure. “I’ll take the Orb into a nearby room with the batteries. Launchpad and Fenton will wait outside and come in only to activate it. As soon as it’s running, they’ll leave to avoid a repeat of that chaotic mess.” She picked up the dropped batteries and carried them out. Launchpad and Fenton went out to take a seat in the hall.

Gyro stopped her at the door. “Hey Chelsea, I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to talk to us about it. Not everyone is as brave as you, or Fenton, or Launchpad...” his voice trailed off. 

“Thanks, Gyro, but is there anything you want to talk about?” she prodded.

He hesitated. “Nope. I’m just going to work on some metal casing”

“Alright man, we’ll chat it up later I guess.” She shrugged and continued to the room next door. “Okay you two step inside and as soon as it activates get out,” she said to the two sitting on the bench. They did so. Right as they left, Launchpad awarded her courage with a hug. She graciously accepted. “I wasn’t too worried about all you guys. Especially Launchpad, I’ve heard him come out about a hundred times. Fenton’s got my back and Gyro has mine too more often than not lately.”

The increasing ferocity of the orb’s glob forced them to exit sooner than they wanted to. After they had to go back out they fell victims to boredom. Fenton checked his phone."Look at this” Fenton shouted, and directed Launchpad towards an image of the two of them strolling down the street. Captioned only with their names, Fenton’s job, and the hashtag “Starcrossed” 

“That’s cute,” Launchpad replied while still in the midst of admiring Fenton in the picture.

“What is?”

“You are. Whoever took this picture must know you. How else would they have known to take it from such a flattering angle?”

“I love you LP, but now’s not the time for romance. Someone took this picture of us without our permission and decided to post it, with this caption. What could they possibly want to achieve by posting this? I don’t get it”  Feverishly Fenton typed up responses to the ever-growing comment section. 

"Whoa there babe!" Launchpad exclaimed. "You're getting a little worked up, what could they be saying that you would even need to respond to?" 

"I'm thanking some of them for their kind comments, and for others, I'm clarifying our relationship. Can you believe some people believe we're just best friends?"

"But you don't have to answer them. They're just online comments. It's not like you're a celebrity." 

"Well, not exactly. This whole rocket business is really pushing me into the public's eye and now this hashtag is doing it farther. You're being pulled in too. We've got to increasingly focus on what we say and do on social media. We've-" His eyes widened and his swallowed. "We're trending! Blathering Blatherskites, what are we supposed to do?" Fenton lamented as he sank into the bench. 

"Don't worry, it's just a 'fifteen minutes of fame' type of thing, plus I'll keep you out of the limelight. It's going to be all right." Launchpad suggested. 

Fenton breathed deeply, "I think I got this, I'm with my boyfriend and my friends. I'm fully backed up." 

Chelsea peaked her head out from the door. "Hey, we should all probably head out for the day. I got plenty of the batteries filled and charged up but the orb needs some time to cool down anyways. I think it found a loophole around me. I'm not looking forward to a murderous cake so I'm done for today." She told Gyro the same thing.

The lab members advanced towards the elevator with Launchpad in tow. Once inside, Gyro cleared his throat and adjusted his suspenders. “By now you must be aware that my poor behavior hasn’t been apprehensible to me. I wish to change how I interact with the two of you in the lab. Fenton, I hope you can find it in you to forgive my past transgressions. “

 "Of course Gyro. You weren't always the kindest lab partner here but once we started this team you've really changed. I think this apology is a sure sign you're improving." Fenton said with a smile although he wasn't sure where this was heading. 

"You really think so?" Gyro asked surprisingly meekly. Fenton confirmed his response. Gyro turned towards Chelsea, "And you?" 

"You can be a tad rude but I'm not going to say I'm perfect either," Chelsea said. 

"That woman, the one from the Hestia Orb, her name's Anne. We had been talking to each other for a while and then I sort of distanced myself. I realized she wouldn't like who I was and still partially am, once she found out. If I'm as good as you're painting me to be then maybe I'll give it another shot." 

"Where's all this coming from?" Chelsea asked. 

"Well, from you actually. Anne loved me for who I am, she didn't care what I looked like before. When the orb made a clone, it said things to me that hurt me because she was one of the only people that knew. That's when I realized I have to tell you guys. I need more support and you're some of the best people I know. I've treated you so poorly. I've been so scared of a lot of things and it's been making me a wreck for a long time. That's not an excuse, but it's a factor." He took a deep breath. "Guys, I'm trans." 

"You really went out to steal my thunder man," Chelsea joked before she asked him if he was a hug person.  

"I'm not opposed to them..." He muttered, slightly flustered at the extra attention he was receiving. Chelsea motioned for Launchpad and Fenton to come in for the hug. 

"We've all got to stick up for each other," Chelsea said. At this Fenton noticed Launchpad grow uncomfortably still.

We're here for you Gyro." Fenton added.  

"Thanks, this means a lot," Gyro said as he shifted out of the hug. The doors slid open and they dispersed.   

On their way to the car, Fenton asked Launchpad "Feeling alright there LP? You were pretty quiet up there." 

"Nah, it's fine babe. Just feeling a little off, a little green.  All this work stress is eating away at me. I just need a nap." 

"You said it. I guess I don't need to ask if we're heading straight home." 

Despite both of their states, the car ride home was one of the most smooth in a while. The golden bask of the sunset soothed their concerns, at least for the time being.

***** 

Launchpad frantically scrolled through the hashtag on a park bench. As each tweet rolled by he grew more panicked. There was nothing malicious about the bulk of them but Launchpad knew the extra attention was pressuring Fenton.  He tweeted "I don't know where this hashtag came from but it putting immense pressure on us. Please stop #StarCrossed" He hoped the extra attention to his account would help the message travel. Launchpad tucked his phone away in his pocket and slouched in his seat in exhaustion. It had been an entire week of constant outings with Scrooge and batting media attention away from Fenton. Not to mention both of these were a constant reminder that he was close to losing his job and friendships to Della. He spiraled as he jumped from jealousy to disappointment at the envy and then back to jealousy again. From behind him, a hand fell onto his shoulder. 

"You're looking like you need some stress relief, my friend. Everything alright?" Launchpad looked behind him and saw Falcon wearing a tank-top moistened by sweat. Falcon popped out his ear-buds and lowered his hand to switch off his music. "I was jogging by and I noticed you were looking a bit glum. I couldn't possibly leave a stranger like that. By the way, the name is Falcon. Falcon Graves". The name seemed to be familiar to Launchpad although he shrugged it off.

"It's okay. I've been really busy these past few weeks and this week especially. Haven't had much time to take a break." Launchpad said. 

Falcon nodded. "Hey, I was going to go get some boba tea," He stretched out the pronunciation of boba, unsure of what it even was. "Would you care to join me?" 

"Sure, I think that would be nice. Where are we going?" Launchpad asked.

"There's a shop nearby. I usually go there when I jog." Falcon replied. They walked to the edge of the park and crossed the sidewalk. Falcon held the door open for Launchpad. He made sure to flex his muscles, which even grabbed the attention of several of the store's patrons. They stood together at the tail of the line. "So, what are you into, what TV shows do you watch?" Falcon asked. 

"Oh, I see what's going on here," Launchpad teased. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Falcon said cooly. 

"Yes, you do. You're one of my followers from my Darkwing Duck account. Listen, I'm glad you want to get to know me but I would appreciate it if you were more open with your intentions." 

"I wasn't aware of your account, but I am quite a fan of Darkwing Duck. I'm quite invested in the dynamic between Drake and his pilot friend. I even do a little writing for them. Hey, maybe I should follow your account." Falcon said as he leaned subtly closer to Launchpad. Despite being able to see deep into Launchpad's eyes, he saw no sign of attraction. He would have to increase his flirting. They had reached the front of the line and Launchpad stared at the menu, his mouth agape as he prepared to say his order. Falcon stepped in front of him, he made sure to make as much bodily contact with him as he did so. "We'll have the citrus blast with boba" 

"Is that a single or double order?" the cashier asked. 

"A single," he replied. He turned towards Launchpad, "We wouldn't want to waste plastic." Launchpad pulled out a pair of finger guns in approval. Falcon thought he saw a hint of flirtation in this action although he had simply underestimated the near endless friendliness and cool attitude of the pilot. "This place is packed, why don't we head back to my place." Launchpad accepted without hesitation, having not noticed that the store was filled to the brim with Waddle employees dressed blatantly in the company's uniform. 

"Your apartment sure is close to where you take your morning jogs, must be nice," Launchpad said as he looked around the half-furnished room. "Are you just moving in?" 

"Yes, arrived here last week. If you think about it, we've both had a stressful week but my troubles have lasted for much longer." Falcon said as he sat down at his table in the kitchen corner of the apartment. He raised his hands to massage his temples. His muscles rippled.

Launchpad joined him. "Hey, what a coincidence. My partner's been really busy focusing on a work project and I've got my work cut out for me as well. Not to mention I have a lot on my mind." Falcon nodded and took a sip from the cup while he crafted a wistful stare at Launchpad. He continued. "You see the job my boyfriend is working on, it super cool. He's really into it, a dream come true. It makes him really happy, but there's this whole social media flurry making it difficult for him. Not to mention the task he's working on threatens mine. I love him but how much will I lose for him. It's wrong to think I'll be replaced but my replacement would really be the full package. I don't know." Launchpad trailed off.  Falcon picked up on Launchpad's blip of vulnerability and swung into action. He gave Launchpad the tea and in the middle of his sip Falcon raised his foot and rubbed it against Launchpad's leg. Launchpad perked up and blushed. He slid the chair away from the table and stood up. "Oh, I'm sorry Falcon, I didn't know you wanted this." 

"We're both feeling a little pressured, why don't we loosen the tap?" Falcon flirted and held Launchpad's hand.

Launchpad pulled back slightly. "I don't know if I should fester him right now. He's working. Maybe I can leave a message." 

"Fester? Leave a message?" Falcon said startled. 

"Oh yeah, I'm polyamorous. You seem like a nice guy but my boyfriend and I have to talk things over first." Launchpad explained. 

Falcon struggled to pull together a story. He could never have anticipated this. He slowly clapped before he burst into roaring applause. "You've done it, congratulation!" He announced.  Launchpad looked around confused. "You were randomly chosen to be a guest on _Good Love_ , a TV show about faithful relationships and exposing bad ones. And you won!" Falcon proudly stammered as he pushed Launchpad out of the room in a panic. "You'll receive your reward in 6-7 business months. "

The door slammed shut behind Launchpad. "Hey, I'm just going to slip my number beneath the door in case you need it. I'll talk to him tonight." 

The door opened ajar as Launchpad walked off. "Wait!" Falcon shouted after him. Launchpad turned around. "For real, no show or anything, I am struggling with work and I hope it was just as therapeutic for you as it was me to talk about it." 

"Don't you work for the show?" Launchpad asked puzzled. 

"It's complicated!" Falcon snapped. 

"It was nice, thanks pal," Launchpad said with finger guns. 

Falcon closed the door and slid down it. He took a breath and opened his phone. "Honey, it was a disaster. He's polyamorous. I didn't work-it couldn't have worked. But my efforts were not for nothing. We've got a confirmation his boyfriend is struggling with the attention. He's struggling too, in fact, he mentioned there might be a shift in occupation in his area. Maybe we can plant a mole. Alright, I've got to go, love you." He said. He reached up onto the table and grabbed the boba tea. "I think I've taken a liking to this," he said to himself. 

***** 

Launchpad drove up towards the Money Bin with an added nervous weight on the gas pedal. The tower glistened in the distance. Suddenly, there came a resounding boom and its looming figure shook on the horizon. Launchpad felt his foot fall heavy on the pedal as a nearby ambulance clicked its siren on a lane over from his. A wave of guilt washed over him as he realized what had happened, and that he had caused it. He slowed down the car to a legal speed and made his way down the ambulance's path. His arrival was met with a crowd. It was mostly evacuated employees although a small fraction consisted of curious pedestrians. Launchpad saw Fenton in a group with the other lab crew. They insistently tapped away at the tablets in their hands. Fenton looked up to see a quickly advancing and visibly upset Launchpad. "LP, what's wrong?" Fenton asked as he opened his arms to allow a sobbing Launchpad in. 

"I'm, I'm really sorry. I can't believe it. Someone could've gotten hurt. I didn't mean to." Launchpad blurted while Fenton rubbed his back. 

"What do you mean? You wouldn't have tampered with one of the lab instruments or anything, you're too good for that." Fenton said. 

"This past month I've been really putting some thought into wishing this rocket project would finish up. I've been getting a bit lonely at home cause you're working so late and Scrooge has got me fighting Beaks' incredibly impolite and off-code archaeologists every few days. Today I felt it stronger than ever.  Then after the orb thing, I got worried."

“Launchpad, I’m still not following.”

“The Orb, it has effects on people. Some nice jogger guy tried to _initiate_ something with me earlier and then I realized that surely if the Orb can have an effect on me away from it then maybe there’s an artifact that makes your deepest desires come true. The jogger and I talked about how stressful work was and our collective wish must’ve caused this” he said and motioned at the surrounding chaos.

 Fenton stared back into the frightened eyes of his loving boyfriend. “LP I want you to take a deep breath. I need you to know this wasn’t your fault. The rocket hasn’t been damaged or delayed. One of Scrooge’s great nephew’s released a Kracklett and it drilled a hole into the ground to get to the ocean. The Money Bin’s typical Tuesday. “ Launchpad followed Fenton’s instruction and nodded. “All this stress you’re feeling and this jogger guy makes me feel like we’ve got more to talk about.” He turned to Gyro and Chelsea. “You two wouldn’t mind if I took the rest of the day off, right?”

“Well, it looks like we’re not getting back inside today anyways, so I don’t see why not,” Chelsea said.

“Not to mention we’re nearly finished up with it all anyways as you know. We can all stand to be a little more lenient” Gyro added

Fenton said his goodbyes and joined Launchpad back in the car. "You were so excited about this project for me, what changed? And don't get me wrong, I didn't and don't expect you to have stayed upbeat about this. It's a lot to deal with." 

"I know that babe, but early on I discovered what this project would mean for me in the long-run. It would make you happy, but in the end, I would have to find a new job, away from Mr. McDee and the kids. It's selfish, I know but I felt deep inside like I wanted it all to fail. It's terrible." There was silence, they had arrived at a red light. The surroundings felt all too familiar for Launchpad. The light switched green and he progressed onward at a steadied pace. 

"You're concerned that Della is going to replace you? Launchpad, I can't guarantee anything-especially anything that happens as a result of this rocket. But you're apart of Scrooge's family, he won't abandon one member for another." Launchpad looked relieved as they pulled up to the garage. "But," Fenton continued. "You're being selfish and jealous. You've got to focus on you, just in a different way. Redefine yourself. It sounds weird saying it but you expect the same thing from me. It's going to be strange meeting Ziyi, don't get me wrong,-I'm excited, but it's going to take some getting used to." 

"You're right. I've never struggled like this before romantically. But outside of that... When we first met, I was so worried that Mr. McDee would replace me with a robot, but that shouldn't have mattered. We're friends first, employer and an employee second. I still have things to work on." Launchpad said. 

"And I'll be right there alongside you LP," Fenton said as he brought himself closer to Launchpad. Their faces grew close and warm before Fenton pulled back nearly in a fit of laughter. "Okay, I'm sorry, but you have got to tell me about this jogger guy. Like was he attractive, what was his deal?" 

Launchpad smiled. So he's a falcon, I know-so hot already. He's got this gruff voice that sort has got something going for it. His name's Falcon Graves. Fancy, right?" 

The playful grin on Fenton sank into a frown. "Falcon Graves? Launchpad, he's with Beaks. He didn't get any information out of you regarding the rocket, did he?" 

"No, although I heard him on the phone talking about how he did get a confirmation that some social media trend was stressing some other contestant's boyfriend. Oh, wait. He was talking about me, you're stressed. I'm sorry babe. I was trying to slip my number under the door as we talked about it but he was obviously pre-occupied. Also said something about placing a mole in for my replacement-but Della's getting that if anyone so we're good." 

"If that's it, I think we're okay. In regards to that first bit, I think I'm starting to get used to the extra attention." He said blinking. A paparazzi's flash had gone off from outside the car window. He looked around slightly nervous. "How about we play back into this "#StarCrossed" thing? Fuel the passionate fire they've already set?" 

"I would like that," Launchpad said before their beaks met once again. Launchpad wrapped his arms around Fenton in a warm embrace. More camera flashes went off around them. 

*****  

Scrooge watched as flashes burst from the gardens. He sighed and turned his attention towards the night sky. The cold air nipped at his exposed down. He briefly went inside and returned with a dusty telescope. It had been so long since the last usage and the tripod's legs were stiff with rust. Scrooge pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the lens. He peaked through them. "Maybe we'll see each other soon Della. My new rocket's nearly complete, although you can't take it for a test run this time," he solemnly chuckled. "If I only knew where to find you then... maybe you could." He refolded the telescope and closed the balcony doors. The moonlight cast its cold blue beam through the glass until he pulled the curtains over its path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT WEEK:  
> Lunar Ball- The finale to "Come Fly With Me" (Release Date- February 14th, 2019) 
> 
> Please Bookmark the next work in the series, "Fly Me to the Moon" to receive notice of chapters after Chapter 16.


	16. Lunar Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The finale to "Come Fly With Me"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SORRY FOR THE MAJOR DELAY! I had a huge uptake in work I had to do and had to leave town over the weekend. It was not my intention to continuously tease the release only to not do so. I know a few days isn't a lot in the "fanfic world" but it is part of my inherent principles that I try my hardest to release on my pre-set deadlines, and regardless is not an excuse. There's going to be a break for a few weeks following this chapter so I can try to create a buffer between the release and completion of a chapter. The intended result would be guaranteed releases on a weekly basis following the end of the hiatus, all in the other work-"Fly Me to the Moon"

Fenton groggily reached forward to silence his alarm clock before he remembered he was in Launchpad's bed. His eyes still only half open, he reeled his hand back in fear he might poke Launchpad.  When he opened them he noticed he wasn't in bed. The clock read six in the morning. Launchpad couldn't be on another mission with Scrooge. The rocket had been completed yesterday. Three months of work complete and the finalized chucks were passed over to Manny and Lil Bulb for construction. The design work and making of smaller and more intricate pieces were done. Fenton got up to hear the soft buzz of a recently used oven. Walking by he felt a minor wave of heat. Launchpad had been baking. Fenton sleepily slipped into something warmer. With sweats and a hoodie, he crept outside. The moon still hung in the sky, although the earliest sunbeams cut through it and caused it to fade. "Launchpad!" Fenton called out discreetly to avoid waking those still sleeping. There wasn't an answer. Fenton continued into the gardens. A cluster of shadows was huddled beneath the shade of the Siren Camellia tree. Fenton approached it. 

"Surprise" Launchpad, Gyro, and Chelsea shouted, although Launchpad had by far the strongest voice of the three. The other two looked just as tired as Fenton was. In front of them lied a cake reading the word "Congratulations!" spotted with fondant stars.  

"I'm flattered, honestly!" Fenton said followed by a yawn. He directed himself to Chelsea and Gyro, "I'm assuming Launchpad called you guys over for a quick celebration. 

"Yup. But if there's a cake I'm always down." Chelsea said. 

"I could have extended my sleep time for another hour, I'll live though," Gyro grumbled lightly. He raised his hand to pause any incoming conversation. "Although it can't be said I'm not thankful to be here Launchpad." 

"Wait, LP, why did you invite everyone here so early?" Fenton asked as he took a seat. 

"I found this incredible breakfast cake recipe online and I wanted to try it out. The completion on your end of the rocket seemed like a good achievement to celebrate." Launchpad explained gleefully.  

"I have yoga classes in the mornings so Launchpad took that into account," Chelsea added. 

Launchpad noticed Fenton's tired grin. "I'm sorry babe. I know we stayed up late the other night but this was a really cool recipe. I've got to show you the blog post later." He began to slice the cake. As he handed the pieces out he asked Chelsea and Gyro "It must've been pretty cool working on that rocket, like a lifelong dream finally being realized or something." 

"Not to brag but I've worked on a rocket for Scrooge before. Nothing like this, not to mention, I didn't really have friends like you guys." Gyro said. 

Chelsea lovingly placed her hand on Gyro's shoulder for comfort. "I've got to hand it to Gyro, not only was it fascinating from an engineering standpoint to work with those artifacts but it was even better having all of you by my side."  

Finally, they bit into their breakfast. Silence ruled as only satisfied hums escaped their mouths. Launchpad too became entranced in his own meal, a sure sign of a superior flavor. 

Chelsea wiped her mouth and asked “So Gyro, are you planning on asking Anne to the Lunar Ball? It could be a great way to jump back into the relationship”

“As a matter of fact, I am. How did an aromantic end up with all the romantic knowledge?”

“What can I say? The world has a sense of humor.” Chelsea said.

“Lunar Ball?” Launchpad said puzzled.

Fenton facepalmed. “LP, I forgot to tell you. Scrooge is throwing a party to celebrate the completion of the rocket. It’s more of a publicity stunt since it’s not actually complete, but no one else knows that. I hoped to surprise you but we got a bit tangled up last night with something else”

“No problem babe. Can’t say it would be any different if I had been in your shoes. Is the theme the moon or are we going to have one of those romance-trope masquerade balls? 

"Uh, I'm pretty sure it's just space-themed. I guess you could wear a mask if you wanted to..." Fenton said. 

 "Sweet" Launchpad said, his fist clenched in anticipation.

Fenton decided to not question this. “Anyways,” he continued, “You don’t have any plans for this Saturday? Right LP? 

“All clear babe. Gosh, it's been so long since I've been to a dance. I'm glad I get to go with you." Launchpad said. 

"I'm excited too, LP," Fenton replied. "We can go pick out some outfits later today if you can." 

Suddenly, a snore sounded from down the table. Gyro had fallen asleep. "I'm going to bring this guy home on my way to the yoga studio. Thank you Launchpad, the cake was incredible and it was nice getting to chat again, goodbye," Chelsea said. She shook Gyro awake and he slowly made his way out beside her. 

"I didn't notice you two really chatting," Fenton pointed out once Chelsea had left. 

"Nah, we talked a bunch before Gyro arrived and then before you came out. I'm telling you, I was up early. That recipe was really fascinating. As soon as I was done reading it I went down to the 24/7 store and picked up the ingredients." Launchpad explained. A small gleam sparkled in his eyes. 

"So you're telling me after we moved things from the car to bed you went to the store?" Fenton said jokingly. 

Launchpad nodded. "What can I say, right now I've got two passions in life, baking and you," Launchpad said coyly. 

Fenton scooted his chair closer to Launchpad and lowered himself into the warm clutch of Launchpad's arms.

 ***** 

The mall had grown busy as the lunch rush grew nearer and the open seats at the food court slowly faded from existence. Launchpad and Fenton were both fishing through a selection of ties. They had decided to play a game where each would have to choose a tie they thought matched the other as well as their outfits. Launchpad has his eyes closed and was leaning casually against a wall.

“I think I’ve got one,” Fenton said. Launchpad opened his eyes and saw Fenton holding a purple tie. “It would match your mask” 

"Ah, babe. You've really got it all figured out. I guess I can't surprise you." Launchpad said 

Fenton retaliated, "I still haven't seen the whole thing yet." 

"True, now see what I got for you. From behind his back, Launchpad pulled out a silver tie. Holographic hieroglyphics glittered across the length of the tie as they slowly transitioned into more modern and scientific symbols. "I tried to focus a little more on the long term." 

Fenton's eyes traced the symbols as they shimmered beneath the fluorescent lights of the mall. "It's beautiful. I love it." His joy was cut short as he caught something in the corner of his view. “LP, look over there. By the sunglasses kiosk.” Fenton hissed under his breath.

Without a hint of subtlety, Launchpad turned his head to see Mark Beaks and Falcon Graves. Both donned a thick and stylish pair of shades. As they examined the various pairs they refused to remove the bottom layer and had simply opted to keep them on beneath.

As anticipated, Falcon noticed the glaring stares and approached them with Mark in tow. 

“Hello there star-crossed lovers” Mark teased, “I assume you’re having a dreadful and for at least one of you, stressful day.” He pulled his shades down slightly to take a look at them.

“Actually we’re doing great. Thank you for asking. In fact, I’m feeling quite relieved.” Fenton snapped back.

“Not sure what’s up with the tone,” Mark said. Fenton stared impatiently at Mark. He gave up the facade. “Listen, I hope there are no hard feelings snoop doggy dogs. I was only playing a game of good ol’ business. You just happened to be the perfect variables to manipulate for what I wanted. Probably won’t even happen again. ” he finished his performance with a hand wave and snort for good measure.

“I don’t see the need to clear things up with us. Falcon was telling me last time he talked that he was feeling overwhelmed too so I took it as even” Launchpad interjected.

Mark Beaks looked sadly at Falcon, one could look into his eyes and see hurt. Falcon hadn’t told him anything. Mark’s typical demanding demeanor returned. “Well, we just wanted to get rid of the bad vibes before the Lunar Ball. That’s why we’re here, not to mention, our designer didn’t want to design original glasses so I guess we’re here now. Shopping with plebeians.”

“Scrooge invited you? And you stalked us?” Fenton said.

“Don’t ask so surprised, I have these two tickets right here," he said as he held his hand extended for Falcon to place the tickets into his palms. Do you really think Scrooge wouldn’t invite one of the influential people in Duckburg? I have yurts for my yurts. It's Scrooge who's the one who needs me, not the other way around. I'm dope," he chuckled lightly, " and Scrooge just can't live without a little high. I even faked building a rocket to satisfy his elderly needs. " 

Fenton stared with a raised eyebrow. "So what was the whole point in torturing us for months? You couldn't have done something else?" 

With a smug expression, Mark shrugged. "I can't believe I thought you would understand, especially you Fenton. Scrooge is an all-encompassing void of insanity. I'm shocked none of you have caught on. If I don't give him a challenge, and an insanely good one at that, then he'll go too far. Your pain was a sacrifice I had to make for you. Perhaps one day you'll thank me." 

Fenton huffed and dragged Launchpad away from the trendy couple. 

"Do you think they fell for it? Falcon said, his lips curled in sly anticipation. Having heard nothing, Falcon turned to see a typically less confident Mark. "Honey?" 

Mark looked up. "You never mentioned you were hurting." 

"It wasn't relevant to the mission," Falcon said weakly. 

"Wasn't relevant to the mission? Are you kidding me? Is this all this is to you, a mission?" Mark shrieked. 

Falcon shrank back in a flinch. "I am on your payroll, but that's not the point. I didn't want my feelings to affect the results of what we were trying to achieve." 

"I just can't even. I am shooketh. I don't even want to talk right now." Mark crossed his arms. 

"You're acting like a child, Mark," Falcon said with a low growl. 

"Me, acting like a child. I'm not the one who couldn't communicate their own feelings. But if you want me to act like a child then so be it." Within seconds Mark had pulled out his phone and tweeted about fighting with his boyfriend. By the time he had looked up from the screen, Falcon had left him. 

***** 

Sweat soaked Scrooge's nightgown. His eyes had instantly locked onto the recently adjusted telescope in the corner of his bedroom. He had had the dream again. The endless void of space, expanding forever, with no Della in sight. Once the horror passed out of his mind it would trickle back in like the small streams of water slipping back into the wave from which it came. His most recently updated financial record would flash before his eyes and linger for just a moment too long. "What have I done?" he whispered to himself.  

***** 

"We're going to be late, Fenton. Let's hurry." Launchpad said while he stood next to the door. He wore a tightly fitted black tuxedo with the electrifying dash of the purple tie. A mask of the same color was slipped over his face. To top it off, he had put on Darkwing Duck's signature hat. Fenton stepped out with a slightly lighter tuxedo, although the overall style-especially the lower half, resembled that of a toga. He had stuck a single upright feather on the top of his head. 

"You're Darkwing Duck!" Fenton gasped. 

“And you’re Argus Quail, although you look a bit different.”

“Yeah, I wanted to try out a futuristic angle with it. To go with the tie you got me.” Fenton said. He spun around to test the motion of the metallic toga.

Launchpad placed his hand over his heart. “Ah, babe”

"Alright, I'm ready now." They stepped out of Launchpad's garage and into the limo outside. Fenton sat down in the front seat next to Launchpad. He jumped when he suddenly realized Scrooge was in the back of the limo. "Sorry, sir. I didn't realize you were here." 

"No harm is done, lad." His voice sounded as if even with harm being done he was not capable of doing anything in response. 

“Hey, Mr. McDee. Your tie is undone. You might want to fix it before we arrive. I’m sure there will be paparazzi. With the mention of paparazzi, Fenton stiffened his posture slightly. Launchpad reached over with one hand and held one of Fenton’s. Scrooge adjusted his tie into a weak knot with nothing more than a grumble.

They drove on and pulled up the Money Bin. A large tent had been set up on the beach beside the tower. Launchpad let out Scrooge first before he pulled over into the parking lot.

“ I can’t believe this will be my first dance.”

Launchpad looked over at Fenton. “Really, are you counting school dances?”

“No, of course not. I didn’t go to mine. My date ended up going with someone else last second.”

“I’m sorry, but hey, I didn’t go to mine either. I forgot it was going to happen so I planned a date the same night. They thought it was for Prom but it wasn’t. Not as bad as what happened to you. It’s going to be fun.”

Launchpad locked the car and they walked hand in hand to the tent.

Whatever string pulling Mark had done to keep the media’s eyes on the two of them had apparently ceased. They were allowed to enter without a single flash or click from a camera.

Fenton breathed a sigh of relief. “This is it. Finally, a moment for just the two of us. I love you LP!”

“I love you, babe-“ Launchpad said before he was silenced by a kiss. They were entangled in each other’s arms.

“Uhhh” someone coughed. They looked up from each other’s eyes. It was the man who checked the tickets. “You’re kind of, like, holding up the line.” He said flatly.

“Oh, sorry sir,” Launchpad said as he fished the tickets from an inner pocket. He accepted the tickets and the two of them stepped inside.

From the tent’s upper reaches hung glittering balls of light. In the center of the tent spinning slowly was a model of the solar system. In lieu of a sun, a disco ball rotated. The side of the tent that faced the city had been covered with black fabric. Small holes had been poked through with flickering lights that shined through them. The opposite side opened up out to the beach. The hiss of the waves provided a sweet sounding compliment to the music.

“Ah, this is so cool!” they exclaimed collectively. They pointed at each other with grins.

“Who even designed this, it’s incredible?” Fenton said.

“I know right!” Launchpad said as he waltzed around in admiration of the design. A crowd had gathered nearby. Some held notepads in their hands and incessantly scribbled away in them while others tapped away at their phones in the Notes app.

Fenton advanced slightly toward the cluster of people. He peeked through the angle of an onlooker’s elbow. “It’s them! Or at least I think so. They certainly look to be the artsy type. Let’s meet them.” As Launchpad approached Fenton he noticed a sulking Donald. He had his seat firmly planted facing away from the silkscreen of stars and towards the ocean. His face nested in his hands. A half-empty drink sat to his side.

“Donald?” Launchpad said.

Donald looked up slowly, his head still rested in the cup of his hands. “Hey Launchpad,” Donald said, the usual strength of his voice was weak. 

Launchpad pulled aside a chair and sat next to the gloomy duck. "You're not looking too hot, Donald," Launchpad said. His brow was furrowed with concern. 

Donald was puzzled. His relationship with Launchpad had yet to reach the closeness of the nature of this interaction. He began to suspect something more. "I'm not exactly in the mood for this Launchpad. Things are a little rough for me right now." 

Launchpad scooted back in his seat. "I'm sorry I thought a little chat would help. I wouldn't want you to feel bad at a party." 

"Well, it's not helping. Why would you think it would help? You have a boyfriend, don't you? We don't need any more broken families." Donald's voice trembled. With his last words, he had slammed down his glass. It cracked. 

"What are you talking about?" Launchpad said. 

"You were flirting with me! Right here, in front of your boyfriend. Someone who loves you. You don't always have the chance to repair what you break." 

"I wasn't flirting with you. I wanted to know how you were feeling." Launchpad said. The concern on his face had grown even more obvious. 

Donald's eyes widened and he clutched his head in embarrassment.  "I'm sorry, I'm a mess," Donald hissed, the sound muffled. He got up and pushed in his chair. Stiffly, he began to walk away. 

 Wait! Even if I was flirting with you, it would've been okay, I’m polyamorous. I wouldn't ever want to hurt someone like that.”

Donald quickly turned on his heel. “Really?” Donald said excitedly. His entire body language snapped into positivity. 

“Wheely? Yeah, sometimes polyamorous relationships can be so tumultuous you feel like a wheel spinning. You’ve got to balance your schedules and the preferences of all the partners.”

“No ‘really’” Donald corrected, slightly exhausted at Launchpad for missing what he said.

“Oh, yeah.” Launchpad nodded with a smile.

“Well, I’m polyamorous too!” Donald announced proudly.

Launchpad drew him in for a hug, “Polyam Fam!” Donald’s eyes widened with his sudden change in movement.

“Yeah, Polyam Fam” Donald repeated gleefully. He reciprocated the hug.

Dewey walked by, “Uncle Donald, you’re polyamorous?” He was followed by Huey Louie and Webby

“How did you boys and Webby sneak in here?” Donald yelled

“Oh, um... Webby forged some VIP passes. Look, the punch bowl line is empty, hey guys let’s go” the children scurried away.

Donald shook his head slowly. “I don’t know what I’ll do about those kids, but maybe things are going to change here soon. Maybe” Donald said. He sulked and slid into the crowd.

Launchpad felt himself falling into a similar rut. Luckily he found one of the party’s attendees who seemed interested in talking. A welcome distraction. “So anyway, it’s the day of Jason’s bar mitzvah and-“ Launchpad turned around with a tap from his shoulder. It was Fenton, the greatest distraction because no amount of time spent with him was a true distraction, he was all that would be on his mind. Fenton's eyes followed Donald as he disappeared into the crowd. He understood, to some degree, what had happened. “ I talked to them. Their name is Jane Rose. They actually invited us to their studio. I was thinking we could go on a small trip and visit- did you hear that? It's music, dance music. They’re gathering around the dance floor. Let’s have some fun” Fenton said, his hand already on Launchpad’s arm to lead him to the dancing. Launchpad saw the wide and excited shimmer in Fenton's eyes and he smiled.

As soon as their feet touched the dance floor, their bodies began to sway and swing across its surface. Together they bounced to the beat of the music, only to pause briefly to prepare to increase the ferocity of their dance with the bass drop. Launchpad's dancing smoothly blended with the movements of the others, although it still retained an unrestrained rhythm to it. Fenton's moves were fresh and often off-rhythm. Regardless, every second brought joy to both of them. One of Fenton's movements sent him tumbling backward and he knocked into Gyro. "Hey" he nearly growled before he increased it into a friendlier pitch. "How's everything going there Fenton?" 

"I'm sorry Gyro. Guess I got a little carried away having fun." Fenton said while he scratched the back of his head. His gaze then turned towards the beautiful robin standing next to Gyro. Their costumes resembled the Earth and the moon. Gyro the moon and Anne the Earth. "This must be Anne." He then turned and told her, "It's a pleasure to meet you." 

"Why this must be Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera. My Gyro speaks often of you and Chelsea. It's grand to see you're just as great as I've been told." Anne said. She would have continued on longer but the music switched to those most fitting of the upcoming slow dance. Glenn Miller's _Moonlight Serenade_ began to sync with the waves. Anne uncoupled from Gyro's arm to have it hold her hips. Fenton received the same treatment from Launchpad. The lights dimmed as the sun finished its descent.

"I still remember the first time I saw you. You burst into Gyro's lab and I still can't get over the energy you exuded. You were so excited." 

Fenton snickered. "I can't say my first reaction was so classy. Your muscles and handsome face were the first things that caught my eye. They also happened to be what reminded me to come back. The things that called me to seek the loyal pilot I helped drive a limo." 

"It's still just as lovely," Launchpad said. He guided Fenton clumsily through the steps of the dance. "When I first saw that it was you inside Gizmoduck, I knew right then and there that you were perfect. That you were smart and courageous. I just couldn't believe it. I had this silly little fantasy I would pull you close into my arms to whisper something in your ear. Even in the midst of all the danger." 

"And what was that?" Fenton asked, leaning his head on Launchpad. 

"Launchpad lowered his beak to Fenton's ear and whispered, "Would you come fly with me?" 

"And how did I reply, in this fantasy of yours?" Fenton asked. 

"I think you already know the answer," Launchpad replied. He pulled Fenton close and instead of a whisper he placed a kiss.  

_EPILOGUE_

Silently, Scrooge McDuck watched his guests dance around or gather around the snack table. Regardless they bore smiles or bellowed hearty laughs. Scrooge's face was frozen in a placid expression of aloofness. An ethereal figure glided toward him. "Don't bother trying to comfort me, old friend. You can't undo the fool's work that's already been done. You can enjoy the celebration of such a folly." 

Duckworth rolled his eyes. "Really sir?" 

"I'm making the same mistake I did last time. Another rocket, another scheme to lose another loved one. I may not even find her." 

"That hasn't stopped you before. The Scrooge McDuck I know has always been out there solving mysteries, rewriting history. You won't repeat it. This time, the family has got your back." Duckworth began to float away to leave Scrooge a moment to contemplate before he stopped. He saw the straightening of an all too familiar top hat and knew the storm clouds had passed. " I believe you would find it curious to discover Mark Beaks and his partner Falcon Graves were not in attendance. The other forged tickets were your own great-nephews and Webby" 

"And what a fabulous space travel team they'll make. Thank you, Duckworth, your advice is always appreciated. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a pilot to talk to." 

Scrooge made his way through the revolving dancers and stopped just ahead of Launchpad and Fenton. He decided he would allow them just one more dance. The song faded into the sea as Launchpad took note of Scrooge. The couple walked up to Scrooge. 

"Uh, anything I could do for you Mr. McDee? Of course, it would have to be later, much later." Launchpad said, his eyes glanced playfully towards Fenton with the added "much later". 

"I was wondering, Launchpad, if you would be interested in piloting the _Spirit of Selene_. It would be an honor for you to fly it, with you being my chauffeur and all. " 

Launchpad looked around in equal parts awe and confusion. "You want me, to crash, eh, I mean fly you to the moon?"  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Launchpad, Fenton, and the Duck family will return along with plenty others from the cast of "Ducktales" in- 
> 
> "Fly Me to the Moon", Part 2 of "Three Birds of a Feather". New chapters will be posted in that separate work starting in about a few weeks to a month, the latest will be late April if I really get bombarded with work.
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! I COULDN'T DO THIS WITHOUT YOU!


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